Using Outdated Tactics
It is believed...
By those limited in mind.
That if one's presence is avoided,
An influence that one 'may' have over others...
Will also go ignored.
And this approach they believe is most effective.
However...
This is not the year 1999.
And for many 2012 has not arrived.
As they are found using outdated tactics,
Elementary school children use for practice.
And bored they have become with the redundancy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Tricks Played
Strip away from yourself,
Those tricks played...
That have outdated themselves,
And only then we can agree...
Upon what is honest,
In this relationship.
Your elementary school tactics used,
Once believed hiding insecurities...
Are no longer needed to impress,
Your ego needing to be addressed.
If I can take years of your critique,
I am sure one self examination...
Done you do will clear the air,
Between you and me.
Strip away from yourself,
Those tricks played...
That have outdated themselves,
Without delay.
And only then we can agree...
Upon what is honest,
In this relationship.
Both us seem to believe,
Has a value left and worthy to keep.
'I 'guess' you are right!
We both seemed to have gotten older...
And to me it has seemed,
To have happened overnight.'
Well...
Those nights have been the longest ones,
I have ever known in my life.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If I was designing a web site for elementary school children, I might have a much higher percentage of older computers with outdated browsers since keeping up with browser and hardware technology has not traditionally been a strong point of most elementary schools.
quote by Mike Davidson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out of Relevance
Out of relevance.
Out of having any influence,
Period.
When does it become collectively witnessed,
That what had been done...
No longer is effective?
When does it in heads click,
Something about their approach...
Has to be re-examined.
And quick.
Especially,
If nothing is accomplished.
And that is not wished to be achieved.
A nothingness is there...
And 'that' can be believed.
However...
When are the signs going to stop,
From being ignored.
When are those who say they have faith...
Going to begin to have that faith explored?
Out of relevance.
Out of having any influence,
Period.
They did this to themselves.
And their excuses are as tired,
As those who have grown sick to listening to them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rather Not Be Bothered
There is nothing about redundancy,
I'd like to review.
It seems so...repetitive,
And recycled.
Like a bad habit used to amuse...
And excused as accepted.
This gets as old as hearing 5th graders,
Threatening to run away from home!
I tried that myself.
Until I got tired of saying the same thing over again.
And arriving back just around supper time.
I was getting the hint!
With or without my presence...
Time was going to be taken to eat!
And my absence was getting a bit too familiar!
So I adapted to other tactics.
None proved to be tear worthy.
Only my own seemed to flow!
I was awakened quite early in life!
Redundancy provides a similar comfort!
Until something drastic...
Like growing up happens.
Or the realization that the same routines,
Seldon provide new observers.
And those familiar with these acts...
Have lost a desire to express empathy!
Or a wish to make eye contact.
It's a clue they would rather not be bothered.
Thanks to God I found better usages for my time.
Or I'd be totally dependent on making excuses,
For myself and my actions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These Are New Days, Children!
Weak tactics.
Celebrated,
By those thick headed
And using tired tricks.
Have played out,
Among those who have risen...
Above this.
And the ones still doing that,
Just do not 'get it'.
They are limited beyond belief!
Believing their weak tactics done,
Will get the attention of everyone...
Or someone impressed enough,
Who has long regarded them...
Limited creeps of rusting values.
They would like to play on a bigger 'field'.
But they will always yield to those...
Who are not into the 'self'!
Even those with wealth can not dismiss,
Or dispose these 'mental wonders'.
'These are new days, children!
And the games being introduced,
Are not only technical...
They are from out and beyond this world! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visiting The Wake Of My Teacher
today i visit the wake of
a 98-year old
retired school teacher
i watch her face inside the coffin
she is very peaceful
i begin to remember
when i was once her grade 3 pupil
in that old Miputak Elementary
School
she believed in me
and that is what made me today
she made me believe in myself
and that made her the best person in the world for me
she will not die
she is living in my memory
goodbye dear teacher
you have done your job too well.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Can One Do Or Say That Doesn't Offend?
Living in an environment,
Where there are disrespectful children...
Being raised by adults stuck in their minds,
That growing up sucks...
Is an added pressure for those who are mature enough,
To throw their hands up...
And walk away!
What can one do or say that doesn't offend?
An influence to include a responsibility that is done...
And shown,
Gets a look of disdain from those choosing to remain...
Hip-hoppers who wish to rap for the rest of their lives.
Try talking to people like this about being accountable.
Go ahead,
I dare you.
They will cuss you out quicker than they will,
The teachers entrusted to babysit their children.
And not necessarily the elementary school aged children.
Those who are confronted in high school!
Running up and down the hallway...
And acting like school is for fools!
Attempting to teach 'these' children 'before' they head to prison,
Is 'not' impossible.
But the likelihood of it becoming a priority,
And seen as an investment to protect one's future is zero!
And there is nowhere to go,
To gain support.
Since people stagnated like this don't know it...
But they are creating their own demise.
And it becomes a sad commentary to make.
So is truth hard to take when face to face.
And when the weekends come...
the only thing that seems to get productively done,
Is a showing of how a detached people...
Can 'still' get down and funky.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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He Rode On a Bus
Since he rode on a bus,
They believed him to be without powerful allies.
Since he rode on a bus,
They believed him to be limited in influence.
Since he rode on a bus,
And lived amongst the poor and not the rich...
He was disrespected more.
But only a few knew,
His worth was more than this.
Even though his funds were limited.
And since he chose to ride on a bus,
He knew he could do what he wished.
His life was not lived to acquire material possessions.
His life was lived for him...
To enjoy every bit of it.
Being there with the people,
As his experience.
And if he rode on a bus...
That was a piece of 'his' happiness.
No explanations did he have to make,
Since for him this was a perfect fit.
Unlike the others,
Who expressed pretentions...
Every chance they would get.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Asked Him to Blow On It! (My First Kazoo)
I remember when I got my first kazoo,
In those days so slow paced...
I was bored to tears at recess,
When in elementary school.
We were made to think like fools then.
I am convinced of that.
So I brought my kazoo to school.
And sent to the principal's office.
And as I sat,
Watching the principal play with my kazoo.
I asked him to blow on it!
And he proceeded to believe,
I had asked him to do something else.
I had always been perceptive.
That's why in those days I was bored to tears.
So I cried!
Hating the thought of being sent,
To the principal's office!
I told one of my friends about that.
And within days...
I saw my friend's father,
Not shake...
But hold the principal's hand!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vendettas
After attracting my attention,
Then using tactics to slander me...
With the aid of my friends and family.
And upgrading degrading techniques,
Of perfected backstabbing skills you inflicted.
You now say you have learned your lessons?
I am quite curious! ?
How did you think I felt...
And where did you think I was,
As you practice your vendettas?
Sipping lemonade as you paraded
Your dislike for me?
There is not a cheek on me I'm turning.
I did not go to that school.
You chose me because you thought I was a fool.
To use and abuse...
Thinking that was cool!
I'm choosing you for purposes to humiliate!
There is quite a difference in my approach!
You say you 'now' have found God?
I think that's great!
You see,
God and I have been buddies for years!
He asked what I thought of you a long time ago!
I said nothing.
That gave Him a clue...
To do what He wanted to do to you!
I am just going to watch.
Since God told me to keep silent in prayer,
And HE would ensure all my prayers would be answered!
While you were doing those things to me...
God has had His eye on you.
And I am sure whatever He decides to do,
Will meet with my satisfaction!
Petty distractions...
I let God handle from now on!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How I Approach My Life
I am often reminded,
How the direction of my writing...
Has changed over the years.
And for the life of me,
I can not understand it.
I've done the best I could,
To keep my outlook elementary.
And perhaps it has been my evolving,
Since high school...
That my thought process and experiences,
I had since then...
That I should attribute to my maturity.
What a dilemma!
However...
God knows I am doing the best I can,
Not to be so observant and intelligent...
As to how I approach my life.
But I do keep my fingers crossed,
That my growth process is not that noticeable...
To those choosing to remain in denial,
And become offended by my adult revelations.
Hey,
Who knows?
Maybe I'm just one of those people,
Who refuse to stay limited to perceived expectations.
You know...
Rebellious, arrogant, self confident, honest and forthright!
And...
65 years old.
One would think I should know my place by now?
Huh?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Upgraded to Bigotry
What are you ready to express,
With such a willingness to project?
Whatever it is...
Consider this,
Perhaps it comes too late
To spark my enthusiasm.
Did you believe my sensibilities
Would park and wait,
Until you determined a date to awaken?
'With' self awareness?
And thoughts to suggest,
To anyone paying attention to your confession...
That you have been slightly more,
Than blindly resting between loud snores heard!
You and that image is so absurd!
I am sure you can locate some kids,
Fibbing in a schoolyard during recess...
At some elementary school to show and tell
And share your profound sense of self and discovery!
But keep in mind...
Those 'children' are not plugged into innocence,
As you might find your mind now released from shackles!
Today's 'youth' are not on the pursuit to locate anyone,
To keep them abreast of your insights!
Teaching concepts of role models,
Is as ancient as a slave owner
Looking for a buck to steed more nippled calves!
Well...
In some parts of the country,
Where backward thinking has been outdated...
And upgraded to bigotry!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Taboos in child upbringing
To berate in others' presence,
To censure with comparison,
To fight in the presence of children,
To please kids indiscriminately
And to deny their reasonable wants
Are taboos in parental upbringing.
Healthy mind scores over scoring marks.
27.01.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Good bye 2011
Happy new year
2012 is here.
Happy new year
2012 is a brand new year
Happy new year
2012 is a year of fear.
Happy nae year
2012 is very much dear
Happy new year
2012 is very much near.
Good bye 2011
2012 is so much near.
poem by MOHAMMED Zuhair
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Bored
Hear me spit on you, wither i
Remold into gold and bury I from - sun
Reborn left to sigh, recure maybe ill
Be born and simplify - the way I lie - before
I get bored, I get bored, I get bored Im bored
Repent by you and trust to figure out
I burn that gift to you - doll and let it shine before
I get bored, I get bored, I get bored, I wish for a real one
Fit and confide, before me or i
I will come clean, it gets worse - its more
Get bored, I get bored, I get bored, a wish for a real one
Get bored, get bored, get bored, I wish for a real one
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Couth With Tact Would Benefit
I try not to imply,
With comments to affect...
Those who may be offended,
By what is said believed to be indirect.
And there is 'something' in between lines,
To be found and suspect...
That I have mentioned with comments,
Made less effective because they are not direct.
And not a bush do I beat with dragging feet...
To leave anyone to guess,
What it is I have left to ponder in wonderment.
I do not suffer from a lip that is bitten.
But I do admit,
More couth with tact would benefit my approach.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without Lip Or Sucking Of Tongue
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And the length of time it took,
For anyone to notice my presence.
Although it was not my presence,
Or reason why...
That I began this journey to be noticed.
I was much too young.
Like a puppy first seeing its tail for the first time...
And curious as to where it came from.
Who knew?
I didn't!
Until I began following an attraction,
That seemed always in my mind.
Of course I 'know' how I arrived.
I first heard my voice.
And my parents noticed it.
I learned if I used it in certain ways,
They were there.
I was a baby them.
Then I connected my voice to words.
I was in awe that letters were attached.
And those letters attached used in different ways,
Made those words I said more or less effective.
Then I began to see those letters change,
As I began to print them by hand slowly.
I was amazed! .
Then I discovered certain words I shouldn't say!
I should never have been told that.
Because even today...
I will use those same words to chase people away.
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And I used a lot of cussing along the way.
Trust me.
But I stopped when it was pointed out to me,
I 'seemed' to have had more intelligence than that.
And whoever said that to me,
Had no clue as to how curious I was.
'Ma?
What's intelligence? '
~Someobody who asks too many questions.
And is about to get on my last nerve.~
'You talking about me? '
~Are you or are you not in my face? ~
'Why can't I ask you anything,
Before it's turned into a test? '
~And if you want to pass,
You know what to do.
Without lip or sucking of tongue.
You got that, mister? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bored At School! ! ! ! ! ! ; (: '(: (: '(
when at school bored as can be
just wondering wat i can see
its blue
its blured
it round
and curve
its job is to hide not surve
im still at school bored as can be
and theres something new to see
its orange
its fat
its stupid
and flat
its sorta friend but annoying too
with it what can i do
all and all im bored at school
what to do with that thing right there
its big and round
is smells like a hound
it hits me back
or ignores my wack
hes hates all
make others fellling fall
so keep away he'll piss u off
or hit him hard to make him soft
poem by Billy Homewood
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When a girl is bored
When a girl is bored no voice is beautiful to her ears
When a girl is bored there is nothing to attract her eyes
When a girl is bored day is night and night is night
When a girl is bored dream and wish is really out of mind
When a girl is bored a star in the sky doesn’t glow
When a girl is bored the city is quiet more than ever
When a girl is bored shadows are searching for light
When a girl is bored the colors are meaningless to her heart
When a girl is bored she cries but expects no tears
When a girl is bored she doesn’t want to hear a word
When a girl is bored the sky isn’t blue anymore
When a girl is bored the world is small for her steps
When a girl is bored no one understands what is in her heart
When a girl is bored though everywhere is dark she never loses her hope
poem by Reihaneh Jalalian
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New Years Eve 1999
Written by gretchen peters
Baby, lets make a date for a night on the town
How does the turn of the century sound
I guarantee that well have a good time
New years eve 1999
Now I know it sounds a bit premature
But Im askin you now cause I want to be sure
Do you have anything else in mind
New years eve 1999
Well drink pink champagne from a plastic cup
Dance all night til the sun comes up
Well say its been a pretty good century
Except for that weekend in 93
Then well go home to our warn winter bed
And tuck in the kids with a kiss on the head
And sing one more chorus of auld lang syne
New years eve 1999
Ill be your sweetheart if youll be mine
New years eve 1999, new years eve 1999
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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