We All Had Fed
I see remnants of my work,
All over the place.
I sometimes am flattered by this.
But I must admit,
That providing someone else a creative spark...
Leaves me more amused,
Than feeling plagiarized.
How could I?
When mummified Egyptians,
Have had their tombs invaded.
And we all had fed off of their creativity.
And continue to do so...
With little historical acknowledgement given.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Reason For The Split
To be in a relationship that ends,
For one to claim they do not know what happened...
Should not have been a relationship that began.
For someone not to be conscious,
Of their own relationship...
Could mean they do not wish to admit,
An activity or lack of providing it...
Was the reason for the split.
And...
If the other one involved in the same relationship,
Has a difficult time remembering it took place...
Well,
There is no need to continue a nosey probing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Half-Time For Snacks
I am often amused
By those who believe
Creative people are weak.
I never thought that myself.
Since I knew too many geniuses...
Nearly living in the streets.
To pursue their way of life.
They weren't the ones,
Having coffee and buns.
And waiting to take an hour lunch break...
To come back to a desk,
To finish something that never gets done.
Or have cash on hand,
From a job where they are incompetent.
Everyone I knew who created...
Were and still are masters,
Of their gifts and talents.
And I know of very few...
Who take from nothing,
To make something like they do!
While so many take creativity for granted.
With nothing in their lives to pursue...
But a happy hour after work.
To discuss who they wish to screw...
Before going home to smoke pot,
Or booze to annoy someone
Who listens to them sing the blues.
And all of those who do create...
Are somewhere applying their craft.
24/7!
With no half-time for snacks!
Or...
Spending most of their lives,
Complaining!
Laying to lounge or sleep on their backs.
With a remote in hand,
Surfing through their televised adventures.
To boast about...
At their next 'business' meeting.
How creative?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Automation and technology would be a great boon if it were creative, if there were more leisure, more opportunity to engage in raising a family, providing guidance to the young, all the stuff we say we need. America will work if we're all in it together. It'll work when there's a shared sense of destiny. It can be done!
quote by Jerry Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most creative work is a process of people passing ideas and inspirations from the past into the future and adding their own creativity along the way.
quote by Joichi Ito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Glad I Had Nothing to Do With It
Am I embarrassed?
By what?
'Anything' I've ever done?
As a performing artist?
Why...
Do you think I should be?
Are you referring to that porno movie?
Now 'that' was a brilliant work of art.
And that was thirty four years ago!
Embarrassed?
Are you kidding?
I have more than gifted jewels to expose!
I'm a performing artist!
Not a scientist...
Wishing for my talents!
However...
I must admit,
I am a bit experimental!
Isn't that what creativity is?
Afterall...
Look in the mirror!
Two performers were very creative,
To put 'that' together!
But don't blame God.
He assisted them the best He could!
And I doubt...
If He is embarrassed at all!
Not saying that He should be.
But I am very glad,
I had nothing to do with it!
God delivers.
And we must accept it.
No matter if we are pleased with what we get.
Or not!
But keep faith!
Someone is there somewhere,
To love us for who we are.
No matter what we look like!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm fortunate I have this coterie of musicians around me to help take music to next level. Being surrounded by so much creative energy, so many creative people really feeds that creativity in me.
quote by Duncan Sheik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Often Tickled
I feel you watching closely.
And ready to poke.
As if my presence,
Is under your microscope.
Too familiar have I been,
To those toothy grins zeroing in...
With needles and pins.
Attempting to prick,
What is perceived thick skin!
To judge if I am human.
Or if I can take what I am given...
Like a cushion that sits.
Without a feeling connected to it.
And if I should let critique,
Show it bothers me?
I'd be perceived as sensitive.
Like most 'creative' types are thought to be.
'And...
You're not? '
No.
Not necessarily.
But I do admit,
I am often tickled.
By displays of thoughtlessness.
And In public I laugh.
Sometimes in private I giggle.
Since the attention I'm given,
Validates some success.
And doing 'something' with longevity?
That achieves the curiosity from others I get?
I can't help but feel both blessed and amused.
Since I love to tease those who probe,
Who believe I'm easy to disturb and upset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If I Did Not Express
If I did not...
You would not know.
Or grow.
If I made no effort...
You would show no ambition.
Or bestow that upon others.
And if I did not express...
You would have no conversation!
Even your footsteps,
Seem to be placed upon my time.
My son is deceased.
So is my father.
Should I feel flattered?
Since I am not amused.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I 'Use' to Fetch to Catch Havoc
I 'use' to...
Fetch to catch havoc.
Like a trained pet taught,
To stretch obediently for patience.
You know...
The kind that teaches those lessons to learn,
And comprehend.
Better than the one,
Providing the instructions given...
With a required testing done at the end.
'You do what I say!
Or face the consequences of your ways.'
I 'use' to...
Be the one to get upset.
Whenever I noticed 'something' incorrect...
Being thrown to me to accept.
Without explanation that was direct.
'Young man?
Do you understand what I am saying? '
I 'use' to...
Be driven to anger!
When I knew what was handled,
Could have been more effective for me to get...
To the best of my expectations.
Well...
Today I have been cured.
With a chilling out that has matured...
That impatience I had with exposed incompetence.
And those frustrations that once had me in a rage.
'Don't look at me like I'm the one crazy! '
Today...
The peace inside me has been saved.
With an acknowledgement that I must 'first'...
Forgive myself.
Before another becomes amused by my outbursts.
And I now recognize those folks who wish to be entertained.
'Are you trying to test me? '
I 'use' to...
But my patience today is more contained.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Gear
It is easy for some to move in one gear.
To play it safe and cosmetic.
For purposes not to stir up dust.
Or attract attention...
To early forms of deception.
While enhancing a well maneuvered advancement.
To smolder and smooze,
With an unknown hoodwinking set to entrance.
The slicker and sly the plot...
The better.
Creative theft is not original.
Theft is theft!
But those who move in this low gear,
Can not produce and deceive at the same time.
The quality and lustre of their lies,
Leaves nothing creative about their input!
They are in one gear.
And it takes a while to notice it.
However...
Those who have?
Have been quickly dismissed.
And slandered to keep them from profit.
They were of genuine deeds,
That could not be plagiarized by those shallow!
So those who remain shallow...
Remain shallow.
And it shows that is all they know.
Moving slow in one gear.
To prove...?
To prove something insignificant,
To someone who was foolish enough to pay the price....
To observe the redundancy,
In its stagnant commitment achieved.
Giving people what they accept.
Not what they want or can get...
In this,
One gear delivered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No, this customary aim of research by excavators is completely foreign to the historical work with which I am occupied... my sole and only aim is to be able to establish a historical fact, on which I disagree with some eminent historians and geographers.
quote by Heinrich Schliemann
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Our biggest goal is to continue to force ourselves to always start our creative work on a white page and not take advantage of past successes and challenging ourselves.
quote by Guy Laliberte
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The thing I wonder about is where does Brian's creative spark come from? Not his subjects or anything, but his spark. What makes it so great for me is that I really don't know. There's a mystery behind Brian, even to me.
quote by Dennis Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wonder What The Trees Think
Do you see that tree,
With the branches reaching?
Think of them as nerves...
Coming from the Earth.
Are they feeling?
Do they sense like you and I?
Or are they here to assist us to breathe?
If they did not exist...
Would your life on this Earth be useless?
I wonder what the trees think,
About our selfish ways!
And they stay as they are...
Basically providing us life.
Tolerating their destruction,
As they sit watching us in conflict.
Without a hug or a visit from us,
As we sit and cuss our existence.
With neither acknowledgement,
Or an expression of our appreciation.
I wonder what the trees think,
About our selfish ways!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Creativity is a great motivator because it makes people interested in what they are doing. Creativity gives hope that there can be a worthwhile idea. Creativity gives the possibility of some sort of achievement to everyone. Creativity makes life more fun and more interesting.
quote by Edward de Bono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Tombs
(e) I was strollin one day, in a lonely graveyard,
When a voice from the tomb, seemed to (b7) say,
I once (e) lived as you live, walked and talked as you talk,
But from earth I was (b7) soon called a- (e) way.
Chorus
(e) oh, those tombs, (oh those tombs),
Lonely tombs, (lonely tombs ),
Seemed to say in a low gentle (b7) tone,
Oh how (e) sweet, (oh how sweet),
Is the rest, (is the rest),
In our beautiful, (b7) heavenly (e) home.
Every voice from the tomb, seemed to whisper and say,
Livin man you must soon follow me,
And I thought as I gazed, on that cold marble slab,
What a sad lonesome place that must be.
Repeat chorus
I then came to the place, where my mother did lay,
And her voice, soft and low, from the tomb,
It said, son Im at rest, with the savior above,
I am safe in my heavenly home.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My theory about creativity is that the more money one has, the more creative one can be.
quote by Robert Mapplethorpe
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If you're an actor in your heart, no matter how much money they shove at you, it doesn't matter if the work doesn't provide that creative spark. You want out.
quote by Chris Noth
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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50%
Honestly, ma'am,
I must say that I despise work,
For I put only 50% into it,
And I know that is mediocrity for you,
But that is my full effort to me.
Now, I cannot stand working
Behind a cubicle,
With people telling me what to do,
For I hate being bossed around,
And it is so boring in here.
I would rather work in a place
Where I could work with my hands
Or use my brain to do something creative
And innovative unlike
All of the paperwork we do here,
But since the work is so boring here,
I cannot help but give my 50%,
And I know it is half of
What you want from me,
But I rest my case.
Good day, ma'am.
poem by James Roberts
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