Under The Skin of Those Misguided
Those who chose to poke their jokes,
At the expense of sincere folks
Seem to be missing in action these days.
Perhaps realizing they are
It never pays for those intentions made,
To select those defenseless and unknowing
Of the extent or depth of one's misdeeds.
Because
Those same misdeeds done,
Have a way of crawling under the skin...
Of those misguided.
To teach lessons to leave unforgiving,
Mental treatments difficult to diagnose.
And the best medication can not numb,
Or relieve
The consistency of a permanent stinging.
Especially when those acts provoked,
To joke and poke sincere folks discreetly
Usually develop from one's unconsciousness.
Making it hard to prescribe a process for specific healing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Slow Folks
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
Oh,
Slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
The slow folks...
Would like to borrow buttered biscuits,
And then lick 'em...
Like their crackin' on dope!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
By those slow folks...
A butt end of a joke.
By those slow folks.
Provoked or demoted,
By those slow folks.
Or turn into a joke!
By those slow folks.
They can getchu outta line!
Those slow folks...
I've seen that all the time!
Those slow folks...
Will get quick in your face.
But you gotta say,
Hell no!
I'm not that joke you want provoked.
Those slow folks...
Seem to stir up all the troubles.
And they poke up...
To mope around hope.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These Acts Are Often Quickly Returned
I have never understood,
Why some people would take it upon themselves...
To say or do things with evil intentions to another,
And not perceive whatever is done they do...
Will not come to be done back to them?
And...
With a doing that never ends.
Once their doings have been discovered.
And those who believe others are sensitive,
When in the acceptance of misdeeds done...
That have come to affect their lives,
Should think of their own.
Especially when condoning the temptation to perform,
An approval of blind acts of thoughtlessness!
These acts are often quickly returned.
And with a specific and swift stinging!
'That's it!
No longer will my patience be misinterpreted.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All People Have A Breaking Point
all people have a breaking point
of mind or body fractured stressed
although some do know it not
bodies can break in random accidents
bodies can break in undue pressures
bodies can break in life misfortunes
poking other people with sticks poke poke
standing on deceit power base pedestals
believing themselves immune to fortune fall
did their mothers never teach manners
not to poke especially poke in the eye
sad it is to watch ego poke poke patterns
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Throughout Documented History
Those who provoke racism,
Feel comfortable amongst themselves...
To poke jokes at the workplace,
To make those who are not represented in numbers...
Feel uncomfortable and out of place,
As they make substandard wages.
To say that these insecurities do not exist...
Is to say Al Jolson didn't carve a career,
From painting his face black.
And outline his eyes and lips...
Bright and white,
To make fun of those he believed defenseless.
And this was loved and regarded as 'entertainment'...
At 'all' Negro's expense.
The minds of those evil have not changed.
And the wickedness of their ways have remain the same.
However...
What can be claimed as tempers inflame?
Is a significant eroding of a quality of life.
Inflicted by those who will never admit shame...
For misdeeds they have clearly done,
To defame and maim one's mental health!
If seen before the treatment of projected 'sweetenings'...
Throughout documented history.
And only done...
As observed,
To achieve their own demise.
Coming to a racist near you to view!
'Oh, I see!
And where are you from? '
My observations began to root and ferment,
In the State of Connecticut.
I hope I had not made that obvious.
In the year 2010,
It seems racism is an acronym for jackass!
Or a donkey with elephant ideals forgotten.
Whatever the losing affiliation one wishes to choose!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poke Chop Sandwich
(about lightnin hopkins drummer who used to keep a porkchop sandwich on his floor tom, for snacking during the breaks. recorded with hopkins drummer, spider, present in the studio.)
Poke
Better watch that
Poke chop sandwichwaitin in th? sack
Ridin a tom tom, a double fat back
Got my poke chop sandwich? /p>
Layin on da drum
Poke chop greazyIm gonna get some
Get some a? dat poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Yeah yeah twenty five
Louisiana back beat and th? texas bop
Do a hollywood shuffle jes? cant top it
New york turn around and
Th? london stomp
African good luck combination
I know that ya want
Poke chop
Poke chop sandwich
Poke chop
Double poke chop sandwich
Play on
Spider & lightnin hopkins got
Th? big bad beat
Aint no question what they gonna eat
Spider wanna a bottle,
Lightnin? wanna a can
Theyll take in a bucket
cause they dam well can
A poke chop
A poke at dat chop
Cut dat poke chope
Poke chop sandwich
Feel like, I feel like a poke chop sandwich
Give me dat sandwich in wax paper
Pork chop sandwich
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Understanding Has Been Acquired
Experience is not from a classroom taught.
That is a process life only offers.
To believe that one can teach,
Or receive experience...
To relieve the sacrifices that come as a reward,
Is to click one's heels three times,
In the hopes Auntie Em has a freshly baked apple pie...
Just pulled from the oven,
Upon one's return from the Land of Oz!
Could be associated with having a drug induced,
Experience.
And these things happen!
Anything is possible.
Like a child hoping to escape a spanking...
Once it has been discovered,
The family cat has been put inside the refrigerator.
How does one handle this situation?
That's a judgement issue.
However,
After the tenth pet has been found in this manner...
There is a real need to take this as a serious issue.
Now...IF,
One was to serve the cat for dinner,
And watch the child nibble on it?
That is an experience that will never be forgotten!
You can say...
Experience, in this example, has definitely been achieved!
An understanding has been acquired.
And desired results...
Develop over time,
With psychological adjustments!
Can be obtained.
Maybe a little costly...
But obtainable!
Hopefully...
In some unique cases,
The avoidance of permanent mental damage...
Is recommended.
But,
We must never look back,
Wishing to have taken other actions!
We must be careful not to be too extreme,
When making our decisions.
We must...
At all cost,
Avoid having someone else's experiences...
Haunt us for the rest of our lives!
Anger fits can linger!
We have to set aside time for those adjustments.
Some take longer than others.
Experience is a mind altering change.
For some...
This process expands comprehension!
And yet,
For others...
They are left scarred for the rest of their lives!
Like one who is forced to eat broccoli.
Lima beans is my thing.
To this day I can't stand them!
And I'm sure the feeling is mutual!
However...
It is very rare these life changes,
Can be instructed.
Although some experiences,
Can leave folks traumaticized!
And these we must consider as 'Prozac Specials'.
They will be 'numb' up for quite sometime.
Some are slower at recovery than others!
Involving the aforementioned experience.
And we must be more patient with these kinds of minds.
One never knows...
When the cracking might snap.
And hopefully with some therapy...
Some folks are able to use their experiences,
As an insight for others to prove...
Even those with dysfunctions,
Can become quite successful...
At keeping their 'ailments' undetected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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He Is Not Stressed
Whatever was done,
Had been demeaned and declared as easy.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
Simple were his deeds considered.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
And criticized for his desires,
To obtained success.
Back 'then'...
In 'those days' folks can not leave!
But that was yesterday!
Today...
He is not stressed at all!
Nor overly protective,
Of an investment,
Others made at a loss in pretentiousness.
And again he finds himself,
Blessed to be ahead of the rest!
And sharing a happiness...
For him that has been cost effective!
And those folks back 'then'...
In 'those days' they could not leave,
Are still there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Eyes Are The Ones Beginning To Clear
There are a few days left,
To experience unabridged sanity...
Folks.
A desperation to free oneself,
Of any accountability has begun,
To provoke.
And protestors everywhere,
Wish to invoke the notion of irresponsibility...
With jokes told on others.
But their eyes are the ones filled with tears.
Yes their eyes are the ones beginning to clear,
To see their own misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slow Poke Music
(coverdale/vandenberg)
Yknow the joint was jumping
Like a dancing fool,
I saw you standing in the corner
Looking oh, so cool
I had a word with the dj
To make the music hot,
Im gonna get you on the dance floor
If you are ready or not
Slow poke music,
Ill get you down to the bone
Slow poke music,
Ill never leave you alone, Ill never leave you
When you move it to the left,
Or you shake it to the right,
No matter what you do, babe,
Its like dynamite
With your sweet french perfume
An that criminal walk,
You know youd melt my ice cream
With your body talk
Slow poke music,
Ill get you down to the bone
Slow poke music,
Ill never leave you alone, Ill never leave you
Im gonna shake you down,
Girl, Im wont do you no harm
Well, you move so fine,
Like stepping on glass,
An when you give me that smile,
I see lightning flash
East an west, north an south,
Oh babe, youre so hot
Im gonna melt in your mouth
Slow poke music,
Ill get you down to the bone
Slow poke music,
Get into it, babe,
Slow poke music,
Ill nail it down to the bone
Slow poke music,
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Girl, Ill never leave you alone...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Lessons Learned Have to Go Into Immediate Effect
There are several reasons why,
I choose not to go out of my way for folks.
Most of them are thoughtless.
And the rest...
Get provoked!
I do not care what is done...
They will be back for more.
And once they have become addicted to this,
The 'victim' becomes disrespected.
If a wish and whim is dismissed.
There are several reasons why,
I choose not to go out of my way for folks.
Many simply do not care.
Who it is that supplies their needs.
Or who they have left pulling out their hair.
And I know that I have aged with values long gone.
When all I require is a 'thank you' from those I assist.
Is that so wrong?
And when that isn't given I re-evaluate my steps.
Realizing my 'next' desire to be taken by a fool...
Will not find me clicking my heels together.
To show my willingness to express,
A good deed done and at its best!
I may return the response I get.
By acting ungrateful, thoughtless and stunned...
When expectations are denied.
And my availability becomes a 'zero' for anyone.
Regardless if my denials for some might numb.
Some lessons learned have to go into immediate effect.
Like an anesthesia applied...
To 'awaken' some to digest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Character
Hard to develop.
Difficult to maintain.
Consistency is need of hour.
Stability is the soul.
Defining good virtues.
Exhale all your evil.
Inhale all virtues.
Hard to develop all virtues.
Win over your weakness
Keep some distance from evil
Refresh mind and heart.
Maintain your level of thought.
Stand on your thought.
Follow them as dream wish.
Difficult time is not a permanent feature.
Consistency will be standard.
Inner voice play major role.
Good or evil are only medium.
Choice is always doorstep of heart and mind.
This is all stand for character.
poem by Ajay Srivastava
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What Had Been Frivolous Priorities
Times and people change.
Even those who have passed judgement on others.
And it must be difficult for these folks to now make claims,
They have had amnesia for decades...
As they delivered their misdeeds.
To purposely pick to inflict their aims.
When so much of what they've done...
Exposes them for what and who they are,
To be revealed to everyone!
And pretentious people I keep distanced.
It's in my DNA.
But I keep my eye on them anyway!
Those folks will betray their mamas.
And will say anything to defend their lies!
And what had been frivolous priorities for some...
Have been replaced by the reality of survival,
That has unmistakably come stun.
Leaving little room to appease deceptions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hoax
As they stumble over the crumbling of their foundations...
They still insist they must persist,
To inflict their standards and values.
But a hoax has provoked most folks.
And the joke invoked has them now in tears.
The gloom and doomers have appeared.
They wish to soften the effects of their demise.
Quick they try to cover all told lies.
To hide their deceptions with an injection of relief.
And a promise to restore a greatness,
Anyone of a consciousness can see...
Has been a game for thieves to play,
At their expense and ignorance.
Those precocious folks learn to hoax,
Early.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slow Poke
(myles goodwyn)
Published by slalom publishing co. - bmi
I got somethin to keep you satisfied
So wont you excuse me, while I slip inside
I aint gonna rush things, you know I aint no speed freak
And I like to take my time whenever I eat
Cause Im just a slow poke, uh-huh, with long strokes
I said Im just a slow poke, baby
And I like to take my time, poke on
Id like to see you with the lights turned down
And Id like to see you when you go down
Im gonna be there, right by your side
Im just gonna hang on, and let you take me for a ride
So how bout a slow poke, uh-huh, with long strokes
I said how bout a slow poke, baby
I like to take my time, alright
Id like to poke you right here on the floor
I aint gonna stop none, till I hear you call for more
Then Im gonna tease you till youre ready to scream
Then Im gonna please you, its gonna seem like a dream
So how bout a slow poke, uh-huh, with long strokes
I said how bout a slow poke, baby
I like to take my time, poke on
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone Unaddressed
They would like to excuse their degradations.
With their hands-on implementation of it.
To accuse others for standards and values...
Placed upon them from 'out-of-the-blue'.
And for generations there had been success,
By using the media to focus on this unrest.
With eyes focused upon the urban areas.
While the desperate needs of these folks...
Were purposely left gone unaddressed.
Well...
Those days are slowly moving on.
With a revelation...
That has come to unmask the perpetrators.
And a host of them,
Professed to be religiously those upright citizens.
For photo-ops in daylight to capture their fixed smiles.
With intentions to deceive and bleed with misdeeds,
In darkness.
Where demons like these spread and leave their bile!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suggested As a Recommendation
Forgiveness is a process of one's state of mind.
And in most cases...
An acceptance occurs.
A tit for a tat...
And an eye for an eye,
For what it is and means...
Can and should be avoidable.
However,
And I am a firm believer of this...
If someone has already submitted a leave of absence,
During these periods.
An accountability for what takes place...
For whatever happens to another,
When misdeeds are done directly...
Or behind one's back purposely to disgrace.
And a retaliation has been committed,
During times when one is under mental duress.
Any steps then taken to correct one's health,
Should be regarded as progress.
With 'that' as the main goal to achieve!
And one should then be praised,
For a recovery that heals in success.
And any doctor concerned,
Will prescribe the best remedy to keep a mind healthy.
Many of us have gone through that!
If not...
And this is a fact,
A second opinion is always suggested...
As a recommendation.
Remember...
Keeping in good physical and mental condition,
Determines the degree of one's happiness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Committed To Memory
It is conveniently done,
And with a purpose to serve...
A boosting of one's morale and nerve,
To discredit others behind their backs...
With the telling of lies and other non-facts.
To enable one heard and seen doing this,
An opportunity to smear to have themselves uplifted.
And always at the absence of another unable to defend,
Or agree to an expense being paid free of evidence.
To have such comments being said,
By those attempting to convince with nonsense.
And to leave one unprotected against,
The telling of falsities conveniently delivered.
And those who seem to remember what others do,
As if committed to memory a reciting of official documents...
Find it difficult to remember their most recent misdeeds,
To have others believe they are victims of their own innocence.
And these folks are all over the place hoping to collect dirt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Backfire
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
'Now' feeling themselves bleeding.
It only begins to hurt...
When the dirt unearths,
To reveal a stinging pain.
It only begins then...
To remove the shadows,
They've cloaked themselves within.
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
Far worse than those,
They have manipulated and deceived!
And when pain is felt like that...
A haunting from it,
Will not relieve!
The suffering torments,
And from them does not leave!
Inflicting tragedies on others...
Backfires upon them relentlessly.
Exposing their darkened ways that crushes!
With a burden they bare eternally to carry.
And there is no escaping.
What has been wished upon others,
Without a consciousness...
Comes to arrest them as they attempt to sleep.
And 'that' they no longer can do successfully!
A backfire unexpected visits.
Mentally squeezing any comforts from them known.
Increasingly as they continue to breathe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Remnants From Lost Giving
Glad to keep them down they were.
Glad to talk about them...
In disrespectful jokes.
And to speak of their appearances...
To heighten laughs with other folks.
Glad to poke at them,
For being who they are!
But,
Since many have been foreclosed to debt...
The best laughs to hear,
None of them have heard yet.
And those are gifts returned,
By disclosures...
Of descendents,
Leaving remnants from lost giving!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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