What Can Be Corrected Takes Initiative and Effort
Some believe their lives,
Should be lived with repetitions of chances...
And forgiveness given.
As if they are immuned from the learning,
Of making mistakes.
There are more than many,
Willing to keep making them.
Some believe any action they take is acceptable.
Any creative excuse used is okay.
And any thoughtlessness expressed from their lips,
Depicting the delivery from a mindless brain...
Is from them expected.
Leaving environments unchanged.
And yet all of this foolishness,
Is a reflection of a standard of life that has been approved.
And those approving this standard?
They are the ones always willing to put the blame,
For any of their failures...
On someone intelligent enough to admit,
What can be corrected takes initiative and effort.
And those who oppose conflicts they have started,
By their absence of seeing daylight...
Are the ones who denounce such appearances of nonconformity,
As actions that will be no longer tolerated...
In the best of their speech deliveries.
Not comprehending their ability to make speeches,
Is not what is needed by those protesting...
The addressing of additional impressive ignorance.
Interpreting what heathens do when unleashed,
Is difficult to swallow...
When those come forward to speak on microphones,
To be heard with their explanations...
Are clearly the ones to blame.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Not Only Accepted But Endorsed
When one is revealed to have an intelligence,
Among others who are more interested...
In displaying an ignorance,
That entertains in delighting...
Acceptable foolishness.
Here can be found in environments like this...
Is a total absence of an accountable responsibility.
With an insistence that persists.
And those who appear,
To have acquired an 'intelligence'...
Are often dismissed as novelties.
In environments,
Where a lack of discipline and laziness...
Is not only accepted,
But endorsed as a reflection...
Of what a mindlessness can enforce to exist.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All That Is Regarded Foolishness
With experiences lived.
And an aging process accepted,
One realizes upon reflection...
How much easier it is to judge.
Than it is to self-examine.
Not many are fortunate to survive,
Through life threatening diseases.
To then step aside with their eyes open wide,
With a freeing of themselves from insecurities left...
Hidden deep inside to confront and rid.
With experiences lived.
And an aging process accepted,
One realizes upon reflection...
How much easier it is to judge.
Than it is to self-examine.
But when that moment in time comes,
An accepting of one's flaws and blemishes are done.
With a leaving behind trivial nonsense.
And all that is regarded as foolishness,
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
Yesterday and those mistakes made,
And all that is regarded as foolishness...
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
Wishing for excuses and alibis to create,
Becomes less tolerated to quickly dismiss.
And all that is regarded as foolishness disappears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deeds Done They Do To Leave
Don't you believe people make mistakes?
And should be forgiven for those they make?
'Sure.
I've made quite a few myself.
And not one did I make,
Was an intention to undermine someone else,
Consciously.
Nor did I,
With a premeditation done...
Inflict sorrow on anyone.
Those are not 'mistakes'.
That is a remorse received for a thing done,
Now bringing feelings of guilt and grief.
Feelings of guilt that brings one grief,
Is a payback.
And those are divinely distributed.
Mistakes can be corrected.
Heartaches and 'breaks'...
Are way beyond my jurisdiction to mend.
They require much prayer and faith.
And that is what I have relied on to keep my head up,
To protect from those of destructive forces.
So those who choose to say,
They should be forgiven for making mistakes.
And expect a forgiveness done...
Are 'consciously' approving their own devious activities.
That is the way I see deeds done they do to leave.
With expectations to continue their deceptions.
After an appropriate forgiveness has been delivered.'
Those are not mistakes.
And there is quite a difference.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Has Been Forced and Faked
One trying to impress,
Another who is impressive...
Is like someone waiting for a delivery,
With a patience...
That anticipates.
And when the moment comes,
The addressing is found to be incorrect.
With a name spoken needing a spell check.
Expecting a reception,
By one who does not accept what is given...
Is a rejection that communicates,
Someone is not comprehending...
What a sharing of a conversation takes.
And one who is impressive,
Makes no attempts to impress...
With what has been forced and faked.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Walk Away
I don't know why you keep lying
about your sanity
Always keep on fighting 'til the end
And I can't stop you from shining
up your vanity
Never taking chances to pretend
Chorus:
We get one chance to sip the wine
And life don't come on borrowed time
He just cries with no reply
If we only knew just what it takes
To leave the others making their mistakes
If you care to say that life ain't
worth it anyway
Beze's gonna grab you in the end
If you see a fool in memories that
belie the rule
Always take the chances to pretend
I heard the voices of the people as
they started praying
I heard them singing songs of laughter
as they started saying
Well don't walk away
I heard the voices of the people as
they started praying
I heard them singing songs of laughter
as they started saying
Well I know why you have lied
about your vanity
Always, never fighting till the end
And I can't stop you trying to save
your sanity
Heaven will protect us in the end
Chorus:
We get one chance to sip the wine
And life doesn't come on borrowed time
He just cries with no reply
If we only knew just what it takes
To leave the others making their mistakes
song performed by by Zebra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peacocking To Flock Together
There is no apologizing that can be made to me,
For a publizing of my address...
In the heat of one's ignorance later confessed,
And I'm kept a prisoner...
By someone's rush to stupidity expressed.
People are quick to ignite their own storms.
To later admit they were thick-headed and impatient,
And expect a forgiveness for their foolishness...
At someone else's expense they must adorn.
There is no apologizing that can be made to me,
For a publizing of my address...
In the heat of one's ignorance later confessed.
That's capitalized B.S.
Underlined and followed by defined exclamation.
Everyday people step through fields of manure,
Seeking to blame someone for their actions.
With a seeking 'not' to self examine,
The lure of their own temptating ignorance...
Handed down from one generation to the next to ensure.
Everyday people show they can strip respect away.
With a doing of their own as if protected to condone.
No matter what they do to each other shown,
With a peacocking to flock together like misguided birds...
Bearing the same false feathers to flutter as heard.
'What about us? '
~What about it?
We only collectively gather together,
To express our own unified distrust...
We can not seem to elimiate from ourselves,
Or each other. What about 'us'...is there such a thing? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Easy Has This Been Made To Do?
How easy has it been made,
For anyone to lift...
An accusatory finger to point to someone else,
As a reason for their problems?
How easy has it been made,
To destroy other lives including their own...
By the creating of lies and hiding behind them.
How easy has it been made,
To ruin the quality and standard of life...
Of those who want to live their lives right,
In environments where people have been taught...
Mediocrity is acceptable.
And a public performance of ignorance,
Is just the thing to do since it's attractive too.
How easy has it been made,
To degrade a neighborhood to do it with a doing done?
As others from the outside watch this,
With an open invitation for more to come.
As if everyone has free admission to see fools in a zoo.
How easy has this been made to do?
And who benefits from this?
Not even the ones who make a dollar in profit.
Or the ones who created it,
With beliefs they can drive away...
To an exit that no longer exist.
Or a door to lock to keep them safe.
Those who have that kind of mind will never from it escape.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Keeping Up Of Appearances
The return of long missed realities,
Has made the waiting for them...
As crisp as fresh air wished,
By those who had wondered...
Whatever happened to those Joneses,
Who once lived a few doors away.
But had to move.
Since the making of impressions,
They could no longer afford.
And those who chose to live basically,
Can now ignore the foolishness...
Of the keeping up of appearances,
My neighborbors are now eager to admit...
They too had difficulty trying to do it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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From One Illusion To The Next
They want him to represent,
That magician remembered...
And seen under the big tent.
The one with the wand,
Making things disappear.
Pulling rabbits out of hats.
To have the people laugh and cheer.
They want him to be,
The one who will heighten their fantasies.
The one who will lead them,
From one illusion to the next.
The one who has perfected...
A delivery of their expectations.
Anything else they are prepared to reject.
They want him to correct,
Every flaw they can not face.
They want him to erase their mistakes.
And take the blame for decisions they make.
They want him to entertain!
With an ability to remove from them,
Every trace of accountability spotted that stains.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forgive Me Mother
How can this broken hearted fool
Be forgiven for making past mistakes
That affected so many lives
That I didn't mean to break
My Heartbeats at the thought
Of my thoughtlessness I use to lavish
On the ones I thought had ruined my life
My heart breaks at the senseless nagging
That was repetitive in my blame
My eyes water at the lack given
To forgive them from the heart
Why must we be so blatant with how?
We say I forgive you from my heart when in reality
You are the one not that needs their forgiveness
From the heart
I bow on bended knee and ask thee
To forgive me from the heart
For the harm befallen you
This time I mean it from my heart
Please Forgive me Mum
© Copyright Kaila George 2012
poem by Kaila George
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Perhaps It Is This Lack Of Discipline
Perhaps there was a sense of responsibility,
Others and myself had perceived as a duty...
When we enisted into the military.
As young men with initiative.
And wanting to prove we had accountability.
Perhaps too it was the knowing,
At the age most of us were 21...
Some of us had married and experienced,
Living away from a known comfort zone...
To begin living lives in other environments,
With a making of a home and on our own.
And perhaps that has been,
The reason for my impatience...
With those who today complain,
About decsions they've made to lay on others blame.
Without having the courage to adventure forward,
To adjust to something new and embrace the change.
And perhaps it is this lack of discipline,
Welcomed by immature grown men and women...
Who believe they are owed entitlements,
Given without earning them...
With demands and claims,
That so many today are clearly insane...
And spoiled by their prioritized delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Living My Life
I’m living my life the way I want to
No one’s going to tell me what to do.
I’ve got to make my own mistakes
And if it’s wrong then it’s my fate.
You’ve already lived your life and like most
Mistakes you’ve made quite a few
That is what we all seem to do.
I’ll make mine so I can’t pass the blame
And I’ll hang my head in shame.
I am young and a teen, and there is
So much in life to be seen.
I’ll make mistakes, I know that’s true
But it’s something that I have to do.
I love you mom and dad, and I know you care
But you can’t live my life
It’s just not fair.
You should know for you went through the same
And on your parents “ did you pass the blame? ”
The dress, the talk, the way we look at life
We do not think about it once or twice.
We just do what’s in that style
And we’ll grow out of it in a little while.
Trust your children “ mom and dad”
For your future is our plan.
poem by Louis Rams
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Dont Blame It On Love
(words by daryl hall & john oates
Music by daryl hall)
Mighty high or low down
Change around the words and they say
Low is not the last one
Cause you know, if you know
Youd be learning from a hit lip
Success is sitting fat and limp
But dont blame it on the system
Its only natural only natural
Blame it on yourself
Blame it on me
But dont blame it on love
Who dya think your heroes are?
Failures everyone
But you all love them for their innocence
When they fall when they fall
The losers always deified
Winner only takes home the prize
But dont blame it on the system
Its only natural its only natural
For you to blame it on yourself
Blame it on me
But dont blame it on love
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Declining Forgiveness
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
With embellished insecurities...
Of memories flourished now gone.
Their mentalities are witnessed to be diminishing quick.
And within themselves,
They can not admit...
These times lived today,
Will not continue to permit...
An attention given,
To such stubbornly held sickness...
They have become riddled and sit with!
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
The challenges ahead requires a collective focus,
That has to exist!
To be drained emotionally by someone misfit...
Detaches an empathy!
With a declining forgiveness,
Decaying with it!
And a healing affect,
Will for all go neglected
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spotlight Drunk
The challenges...
Are real.
The competition?
Also real.
The feelings...
Those are real,
Real. Real!
These egos are spotlight drunk.
Who will get that slam dunk...
Depicting my qualifications,
To be the man I am?
Well...
That seems to be me.
I don't seek confirmation.
Or anyone to agree.
And no candidate running for public office,
Is going to convince my landlord...
To whom I pay rent.
The grocer...
To whom I spend nearly my last cent!
Or those who supply my utilities...
If I have the ability to keep them on!
And 'if' I can do these things on credit.
I have never approached them to ask!
Not once have they expressed concern,
How I affirm my actions!
They just are tired of hearing me say...
'The check is in the mail.'
Except for the grocer.
If I go in without cash...
I come out with no packed bags.
No one negotiates,
Not even for a loaf of bread...
Milk, eggs or one grape!
If you are in line with items,
Be prepared to pay!
And no one making speeches,
On the streets with rolled up sleeves.
Or from behind podiums...
Suited in silk and tied down,
Will express my cause...
With a delivery to my door,
Of cash...
I can hold in my hands!
For however long that may last.
Somehow...
I know this!
That's just the reality I live.
With none of it being staged.
Or graded for the performance.
Somehow...
I know this!
And my best routine?
That's keeping my head above water.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Granting Of An Escape
When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes...
To find fault to place blame on others,
With a granting of an escape.
When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes.
And when will people awaken,
To discover their dishonesty...
Offers their children,
No respect or identity.
Or a dignity they pride for the rest of their lives.
What will it take...
For those with pretentions to have them erased?
More hiding places?
Or the appearance of guilty looks,
Adorning their pitiful faces?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Want
Everybody wants the truth
But everybody lies
Everybody wants some proof
But everybodys blind
So open up your eyes
I really dont know much of anything at all
But Ill admit were all the same
You ask forgiveness and you make the same mistakes
And Ill admit were all the same
I want to know
Do these words mean anything?
How can this life mean more than what it seems?
Everybody wants equality
But were all prejudice
Were all hypocrites
Everybody wants the world
But we have nothing
I really dont know much of anything at all
But Ill admit were all the same
You ask forgiveness and you make the same mistakes
And Ill admit were all the same
I want to know
Do these words mean anything?
How can this life mean more than what it seems?
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Have The Nerve To Listen
If you have come to believe,
Someone can actually be blamed...
For your pitiful life lived?
Look in the mirror!
Add that person to your list as well.
If you want to accuse anyone,
For failures you feel?
Point your finger at everyone,
Who tolerated listening to your nonsense...
As they allowed you to get away with this!
A dead end just doesn't happen.
An accident in the making,
Has had several eyes withnessing it.
A mind condoned to drift into foolishness...
Had been nurtured to follow,
A path one sought with assistance directed.
If you have come to believe,
Someone can actually be blamed...
For your pitiful life lived?
Look in the mirror!
Add that person to your list as well.
And if you have the nerve to listen,
To yourself tell you where to go?
Pay attention!
It may be the beginning for you,
To the doing of 'something' about it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doing What It Takes To Feel One's Best
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do...
To get the attention.
Misconceptions about that are taught to those,
To leave them feeling insecure to be left exposed.
And psychologically dependent on others.
Those who are seeking the attention,
Are the ones making the excuses...
For everything done they do,
To avoid doing that which they should.
Fearing then no one would notice them at all.
And for them to be noticed is what is sought.
Leave them alone to figure themselves out,
And they wouldn't know what to do 'with' clues.
Especially if no one is there to listen,
To their opinions given or their version of life...
Yet for them to live.
But they'll try to convince others they know about.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is 'not' something one adopts to do to get the attention.
Doing what it takes to feel one's best,
Is something one does to comprehend.
And many not comprehending,
Can also be viewed amongst those refusing to listen.
Only a life lived to be one's best,
Is often a life lived making fewer excuses.
With less complaints heard,
To create and produce to seduce someone else...
For whatever the reason found around,
To digest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Effort
It takes initiative.
Sometimes unrelenting...
To accomplish a task,
From the beginning to end.
And there are times,
What one has chosen to do...
May be too much loved,
To ever give up to walk away.
With motivation, purpose and direction,
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion...
May require dedication for the rest of one's life.
Depending on how deeply one is determined and affected.
No matter how easy or hard it may look,
From the outside looking in.
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And initiative with sacrifice 'and' devotion.
With that set in motion,
Few people could careless how they are perceived.
Knowing blood, sweat and many tears,
May never be subjected to leave.
Oh yes...
It takes effort to make things work.
It takes sacrifice applied.
And with that set in motion,
In the heart of one devoted...
Few doing this could careless,
How they are perceived by the rest.
It takes an effort that will be tested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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