Until Someone Is Challenged
It is a place of routines.
A job daily done.
A town...
Where everything done,
Is known by everyone.
And seasons go and they come.
Changing very little.
Accept for the birth of someone's daughter,
Or son!
Or a crime committed that stuns.
The only ones not aware of them...
Are those who are caught up,
In these same scenes.
Both routine and crime...
Over time,
Have come to be accepted
As commonplace as mustard is on a hotdog.
Or someone drinking a diet beverage,
Expecting to burn off fat sitting on wide hips!
In front of a TV with wishes to be slim and lean!
Many of them are frequently seen.
Like the expectation of holidays.
They come when they do...
But few know what they mean.
Anything that comes along,
With a differentness...
It upsets and it is quickly dismissed.
Or sits ignored.
Until someone is challenged to explore it.
Even though this freshness is best...
Folks in one mindset,
Are like eggs in one nest!
If someone sees a few that are cracked...
Eventually those left with shells unblemished,
Will end up at least equally...
Cracked matched.
To be stacked.
Given some applied insignificance.
Or damaged beyond recognition.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sensitivities Have Been Numbed
It's incredible,
How the inevitable can be there glaring...
As those fixed into routines will not notice.
It is incredible,
How people can line up in front of a hotdog stand...
And ignore those homeless with nothing to eat,
Sitting on the street right behind them.
It's incredible how sensitivities have been numbed.
In a second one can express an empathy.
And in the next,
Have none.
Although argue with a vendor people do,
Over the price of added condiments.
It is incredible how people accept their selfishness,
With a relishing of mustard and onions to spread.
'You have any change for a hotdog? '
~Sorry.
I only have two twenties in my pocket.~
'Did You hear that, Father? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Defying Against Any Of The Evidence
To do something done unconsciously to another...
And to have that act returned with a consciousness delivered,
As intended!
Says this as witnessed...
There is no sense made in a display of one's offense.
And yet offended people become,
When given exactly to them what they had initiated.
And done.
With one thing missing.
A lack of acknowledging their involvement.
And an applied selective memory,
That removes them from the scene of a crime committed.
A common hit and run done claimed by someone caught,
To have known nothing about what has happened.
With a defying against any of the evidence.
Pictures, fingerprints...
Food stains and crumbs on lips.
And the habit of their daily routine.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dowry
A deal in helpless conditions
Yet arranged with great zeal,
A crime againt humanity
Yet committed by even the guardians of law.
Certainly a crime committed by both sides,
One offers
And other demands
Both are equally responsible,
Both are inhuman and immoral,
Both deserve punishment.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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White Collar Crime
I'm not hungry, (?) throw away the key (?)
It's outrageous, nobody cares,
White collar crime, you had the time,
Blue collar crime, you'll do time every time,
Stealing from the company, taking all the profits,
Sharing with your family, drinking all the benefits,
(?), shocking, it's all so mocking,
White collar crime, you don't have the time,
Blue collar crime, you'll do time every time,
You can get away with it, will they get away with it?
Do they get away with it? yes, they get away with it.
Burn money today, free money tomorrow,
(?) goes my mind, causes so much sorrow,
(?), it's all the same, it's a money power game
White collar crime, you do the time,
Blue collar crime, you do time every time
White collar crime, you don't have the time,
Blue collar crime, you do time every time
All the same, money power game,
It's all the same, money power game,
It's all the same, it's a money power game,
All the same, it's a money, a money, power, the power game,
It's all the same.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crime Pays
Music: hall
Lyrics: hall/oates/s. allen
I know you know all the pros and cons
They help you get to everything you want
Greasing policemen bending all the rules
Make them an offer that they cant refuse
One crime baby I cant forgive
The kind that hurts where I live
Im a nice guy I try to wait and see
If youll get caught or go free
You stole my heart and left me blue
It look like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seem like crime pays
Crime pays
Beat the heat but you couldnt pay me off
Youre staying cool no matter what it costs
You get caught youll never do the time
I have to say youve got a way with one crime baby I cant forgive
The kind that hurts where I live
Its all too clear but I still dont see
Why all the guilty go free
You stole my heart and left me blue
It look like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seems like crime pays
Crime pays
It seems like crime pays
Crime pays
Catch a thief and let her go
You wont get back the love she stole
Shake her down but she dont mind
cause she commit the perfect crime ok, ok
You know I know youre a pro and con artiste
Oh baby youre a false alarm
Why do I try to play it by the rules
I was the victim but Im not a fool
You stole my heart and left me blue
It looks like crime pays for you
You do it and you get away
It seems like crime pays
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funky Crime
Why do you do what you do
I do what I want to do
who said you could do what you do
I told you who told me to
I do what I want to do
I do what I want to do
funky crime funky crime
don't you know funk's colors blind
well I've committed a funky crime
against a state of mind
Hey you mister interview
I don't have to answer you
this is what I grew into
don't judge me and my soul stew
cause funk is my attitude
funk is my attitude
funky crime funky crime
don't you know funk's colors blind
well I've committed a funky crime
against a state of mind
Barriers of race
in the media take place
tellin'you there is no room
for what you do
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from The Uplift Mofo Party Plan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unified Pursuits
Now that many are awakening,
To see how reality connects and works.
They are wishing to contact those dismissed,
For not being this or that.
And being considered in that past,
As those without identity with a calling them jerks.
And their activities had no connection,
To those living in distressed communities!
Or not being 'real' when efforts they made,
Were ignorantly in need of attack as then perceived.
Times have a way of changing all that!
Now that eyes have been opened wide,
Those caught up in their 'new' discovered truths...
Are curious why those dismissed,
Have no interest in participating in their 'unified' pursuits.
Or retracing...
Those dismissed steps,
They have long ago left!
With a 'Best Wishes' on their peaceful breaths.
And showing not a sign or a hint of regret.
In fact, there is a happiness revealed they reflect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Crime & Passion
Why did you let me run,
When you knew Id fall for the gaping hole -
Where your heart should be?
Liar - couldnt cut me deeper with a knife if you tried -
Just take a look, before you run off and hide, at your victim, arise...
Clouds on you shoulder
Arent they grazed by the afterglow
How quiet they gather -
When the storm is about to blow -
Oh, oh, now dont look away,
Caught in the crossfire
And it aint no wind of change
Im talking of crime and passions rage.
Summer of madness the undertow, dragged me up an alley -
For the blossoming fire on a strangers smile.
Bride of wires - how disguise so easily cracked -
Saw your heart turn spade, this orchids turned to black..
Graze on your shoulder
Like the clouds in the afterglow
How quiet they gather -
When the storm is about to blow -
Oh, oh, now dont look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it aint no wind of change
Im talking of crime and passions rage
-
Way down by the shoulder
In the haze of the afterglow
Stranded together -
And the storms about to blow -
Oh, oh, now dont look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it aint no wind of change
Im talking of crime and passions..
Oh, oh now dont look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it aint no wind of change
Im talking of crime and passion..
Dont look away
Caught in the crossfire
And if aint no wind of change
Im talking of crime and passion...
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Auld Wife
PART I
The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.
The piper he pip’d on the hill-top high,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
Till the cow said, “I die,” and the goose asked “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard,
The connection of which with the plot one sees.
The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,
As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.
The farmer’s daughter hath ripe red lips;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
If you try to approach her away she skips
Over tables and chairs with apparent ease.
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where,
Which wholly consisted of lines like these.
PART II
She sat with her hands ’neath her dimpled cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And spake not a word. While a lady speaks
There is hope, but she did n’t even sneeze.
She sat with her hands ’neath her crimson cheeks;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She gave up mending her father’s breeks,
And let the cat roll in her best chemise.
She sat with her hands ’neath her burning cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And gaz’d at the piper for thirteen weeks;
Then she follow’d him out o’er the misty leas.
Her sheep follow’d her, as their tails did them,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And this song is consider’d a perfect gem;
And as to the meaning, it ’s what you please.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conflicted In Mind
You come in a huff expecting confrontation.
And when you notice none appears,
This clearly upsets your wishes.
And when I tell you,
What you expect is not here...
This angers your mission to see it.
You come in a huff expecting confrontation.
And when you notice none appears,
This clearly upsets your wishes.
And when I tell you,
What you expect is not here...
This angers your mission to see it.
And you say I am the one conflicted in mind.
But that attitude you carry around,
Stays with you all the time in view!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Paid Generously
Non-threatening to perceptions accepted,
Are those most likely...
The recipients of positive attention given.
These are days of crazed mentalities.
And those attempting to solidify their agenda...
Can not afford too much truth to slip and confuse.
A wholesomeness projected is the expectation.
Although observations,
Witness those challenged by such a kept mindset.
Rapidly are the lifestyles changing.
Everyday someone new is claimed to be the blame.
Someone who dared to represent leadership.
Someone who appears approachable...
And doesn't mind it one bit being publicly screwed.
Or being paid generously to be called an idiot....
And defamed for principles said to be those of a fool.
Non-threatening to perceptions accepted,
Are those most likely...
The recipients of positive attention given.
But not when it is conducive to point fingers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Law and claw
Convicted of the crime that you committed,
You will absolve the guilt.
Convicted of the crime that you uncommitted,
You will curse the guilt.
Acquitted of the crime that you
uncommitted,
You will evict the guilt.
Acquitted of the crime that you committed,
You die of the guilt.
To escape from law
is to succumb to conscience’s claw.
29.12.2001, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Hidden Wishes
Hidden wishes are not the best ones,
To keep secret.
Not when two are sharing space,
In a relationship as mates.
And seen before sleeping,
With eyes opened wide...
To awaken to bare blemishes,
On a daily naked basis to rub against...
A touching of hips, legs and thighs.
If lies become treasured...
And from one,
Another hides.
When mates that close become distrusting,
Whether or not legal vows had been exchanged.
A presence of love can be said was never there.
Or a devotion known between them shown.
What depth of caring is done if no one is aware.
When two are sharing space,
On a daily basis in a relationship as mates...
Hidden wishes are not the best to keep,
Between two left unconnected.
And separately discreet.
But meeting each other to heat under sheets,
With a keeping of hidden wishes secret.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Broken Mirror
My life is almost over; that's a fact
Statistically derived but simply true;
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked
And so reflects two, three, or more, that lack
Cohesion. Which one's goal shall I pursue—
My life is almost over; that's a fact—
In time remaining? Luggage largely packed,
Past boxed and crated, little left to do,
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked
And won't be fixed and always did refract
The one before it into at least two.
My life is almost over; that's a fact,
But life cannot be lived in the abstract
And begs for certainties that it once knew:
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked;
I look away in search of the exact;
Nights melt the shadow shrinking from my view;
I look into the mirror, but it's cracked.
My life is almost over; that's my fact.
poem by David Berman
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There Will Always Be Crime
As long as there are excuses made to keep it...
There will always be crime.
As long as it is identified,
And left untreated.
There will always be crime.
As long as there is a system that feeds it...
With statistics gathered,
As if score cards are needed.
And as long as what is being done,
Is taught to those young!
There will always be crime.
And those who make a living to pocket from it!
Crime as it has been flourished to become known...
Will always be a part of greed and its existence!
Giving those who are employed to define it,
A reason to depict it and where to keep it fed!
Just like maintaining a sickness,
To overcrowd hospitals...
To fill folks with illnesses to strap them to beds.
There will 'always' be an atmosphere,
Where fear induced minds produce crime!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inside 'The House
If you are one,
To profess a faith...
Said is deep in God.
But a fear kept and limited,
Daily sits with you...
And warmly visits.
Put yourself on the hypocrite list!
And keep this in mind...
When you discover a scripture,
Delivered quickly from your lips.
Especially one easily remembered.
To find and repeat all the time!
One short and sweet.
And often rhymes.
Anyone with claims,
To have a faith in a 'Spirit'
With awesome power,
To lift their lives from burdens.
And able to gift them with blessings!
Who and what does one like this,
Try to convince?
When 'that' which is The Almighty...
Is constantly aware and listening,
For evidence of it.
Perhaps they view God,
Like many are prone to do.
From a pew on Sunday.
With a routine to follow through!
And name dropping to impress.
Yet being totally disconnected.
But hoping what is expressed...
Gains them an expectation of acceptance.
With quotes, notes and a nod from other folks.
Who like them...
Believe God is listening more intently!
Since they are inside 'the house',
Historically rumored and reported...
God lives in!
And He does not come out!
Or know a thing about them.
Or their pretensions to be...
More than the hypocrites they've been.
And He has known this from the beginning.
Since this they have insisted,
To choose and show to Him.
And even in their confessions,
This Deity remains unimpressed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To My Mother
Why
you went
and in this
bitter and cruel world
alone me left
was death so beautı ful and your beloved
did you miss it very much
fed up of us
you used to take us
under your skirt
and protect us from rainy days
from everything harmful
is you grave as cold as ice
why did you made it be dug so large
whom are yı ou expecting near as dear
was death so beautı ful mother
why you left us alone
ı t ı s evident
you longed for it
ı was angry
do noyt go do not leave us
pardon me mother
after so many years
ı came to your place
to embrace
may be youare lyiş ng in tears
and of longings
again another december
the day you left
did you remember
your hands were cracked
may be of cold
forgive me moı ther
ı could not afford to buy cream
to soothe them
you gone with your cracked hands
there is alittle ceddar on your grave
who sowed it ı do not know
some kinds of fruı t on it
ı took and smelled
they smelled you mother
ı took some with me to home
they are dried now
my wife does not know
ell me mother
after so many years
are your hands or
your heart are still cracked
tell me how can ı soothe them
or am ı so late to you
pardon me
forgive me
remember the only thing
the most longing of my heart
is still you
every night ı will go on talking with you
in my dream
in my sleep
or in my awake
poem by Metin Sahin
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In Relentless 'Me-Me-I' Relationships
I see you there aware and perfect.
With not a blemish hidden,
To deform what God gives.
I see you challenged with a missing limb.
And not a burden shown,
To diminish the Sun beaming on your grin.
I see your eyes invite me inside,
To share meaningful thoughts with you.
And I accept quickly your hospitality.
Rare that it is when so many are involved,
In relentless 'me-me-I' relationships!
And themselves so deeply involved and committed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Called Anders
He sits in his cell, not allowed to read newspapers
or watch TV. The centre of his mind is the coldest
place on earth…. He gives, for now, no ground for
other thoughts, say, that he might have committed
an unspeakable crime. His mother has forsaken him
his father wishes he will have the sense to take his
own life. His cell is frosty blue, those who feed him
avoid eye contact. No hand reaches out to touch him,
and his former friends tell us he was a big nobody.
He cannot hear this he will not hear, he is the king of
his own mind and mustn’t stray from his chosen path.
Cosmic loneliness, if he, one day, wakes up from his
slumber of self delusion and sees how grotesque he is
there will be no one to embrace him and give succor.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Of Crime And Passion
Why did you let me run
When you knew I'd fall for the gaping hole
Where your heart should be
Liar-couldn't cut me deeper with a knife if you tried
Just take a look (before you run off and hide)
At your victim
arise
Clouds on you shoulder
Aren't they grazed by the afterglow
How quiet they gather
When the storm is about to blow
No don't look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it ain't no wind of change
I'm talking of crime and passion's rage
Summer of madness or the undertow
Dragged me up an alley for the blossoming fire
On a stranger's smile
Bride of wire-how disguise so easily cracked
Saw your heart turn spade
This orchid's turned to black
Graze on your shoulder
Like the clouds in the afterglow
How quiet they gather
When the storm is about to blow
No don't look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it ain't no wind of change
I'm talking of crime and passion's rage
Way down by the shoulder
In the haze of the afterglow
Stranded together
And the storm is about to blow
No don't look away
Caught in the crossfire
And it ain't no wind of change
I'm talking of crime and passion's rage
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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