Whatever Is Put Into The Engine
Whatever is put into the engine...
To energize,
Is connected to the kind of ride...
Received to criticize or pride.
How well we treat and respect,
That which reflects our priorities...
Will result in what is given in return.
To be believed...
As witnessed and seen to accept or deny.
And making attempts to disconnect...
A responsibility of involvement,
To proclaim a non-acknowledgement...
Is to also profess an unconsciousness,
One is accustomed to using...
To excuse an accountability.
And escapes one takes to fade away,
Are no longer easily dismissed...
As one would wish as has been done,
In a recent past,
The hopeful are praying will return back to welcome.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Required Prerequisite
A call to duty,
Few use refuse.
It once had been an honor to do it.
In those days passed,
When patriotism was a thing to choose.
And everyone felt this,
Without making an excuse.
Today,
Quick escapes...
Is as natural as responsibility betrayed.
And having no accountability comes to surprise...
As many display themselves to be disrespectful.
Without a sign of regret to disgustfully criticize.
As if the act of expressing respect,
Has become a required prerequisite...
Most folks have come to think as weak.
And this, if shown, is today despised.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Takes An Absence
It takes an absence felt,
For many people to realize...
What and who in their lives,
Had provided them with a significance.
It takes an absence for an awakening to occur,
To stir up priorities with a reviewing...
Of what had topped their most wished list.
With a doing when one finally gets around to it.
It takes an absence missed with a remorse that sits,
For the ones who had been taken for granted...
Now 'suddenly' appreciated for their contributions made.
Those who never mentioned,
Requests to receive an attention to them given.
And it takes an absence with attempts to replace,
A void that appears one no longer can face...
To fill a vacuum that had been once shared and enjoyed,
By those who frequently were thought to have annoyed.
Yes an absence teaches those lessons learned,
Thought by some to be preached when comments made...
Were believed to leave some ears to burn.
To remind the receiver what they have sometimes was given,
And not by them earned as believed.
It takes an absence missed when reminiscing...
Those perceived could be easily dismissed.
And absences that are often missed,
Are those wished could be returned with more thoughtfulness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Connected To Humanity
Too connected to humanity,
To feel completely free.
Although I am committed,
To have my own peace of mind...
I still find I am happiest,
When near and close to those I love.
Too connected I am to those I care about.
Even those I see on a daily basis I don't know...
I give and show respect I don't in return get.
And yet,
I am not expecting it...
In wishes it to be given.
Too connected to humanity and accepting it.
With each moment lived to express gratefulness.
And to do that with the acknowledgement,
I can only be free to observe and learn.
Not be isolated with a freedom earned...
Yet to become upset,
Since my senses are not satisfied by my yearning...
To be held and touched.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Given The Keys
If given the keys to unlock,
A flowing of bestowed opportunities...
Is not believed to be the responsibility kept,
By the ones handed those keys...
Who can not accept,
That the action done was precious?
And they lose the keys kept with no sense,
That reflects an appreciation...
But just an expression of a thoughtlessness?
Why bother to give someone like this,
Time to make excuses?
Or address their foolishness, period!
'Back this thing up,
And get me outta here! '
I thought you said,
You were going to leave them...
With another set of keys?
'Maybe you didn't 'get it'...
But that's what they were anticipating I would do.
And I had a change of priorities,
The moment I was given a look of impatience.
Let's go!
Enough time has been wasted here.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here...Use My Megaphone
Excuse me.
I didn't hear clearly,
Your last statement.
Did you say...
'How do I feel about negative comments,
Made about me.
In this community?
'Yes.
My words exactly.'
Would you like to go on a tour?
'No...I've...uh...no.'
I'm to care about what is being said about me?
Is that it?
By people who regard that more important,
Than what's going on in their own lives?
Is that it?
Have you seen their thoughts reflected on the streets?
'Yes.'
And I'm to care what they say about me?
I am hopeful one day they will awaken,
To at least appreciate and value...
The importance of hygiene, discipline and self respect.
And I bet they will come to find,
Me not worthy of that kind of attention.
Not the kind they need to focus with an addressing of it,
Missed and dismissed to get back and look at upon themselves.
Other than that...
They are a fabulous bunch of nutts!
'Do you mind if I quote you? '
Quote me?
Here...
Use my megaphone!
It's more direct.
In fact you can have it.
I'm tired of using it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Commendable of Him
It is commendable of him...
Professing to take full responsibility,
For the actions of thieves initiating disasters.
He wants to prove to the majority,
That he is an able and confident leader.
But those accustomed to being self obsessed...
Are often discovered,
Leading themselves into their own distresses.
Only to lay accountability and their shame,
At the feet of one who is brave enough...
To take responsibility.
But those observing in admiration,
Empathize with the foolish act one takes.
Knowing that true leadership...
People are not familiar with nor appreciate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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But in this Congress, accountability is just a catch phrase, usually directed elsewhere. Demands to personal responsibility or corporate accountability abound, but rarely congressional accountability or fiscal responsibility.
quote by Melissa Bean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tired of Being the One Stung
Some have no idea they are loved unconditionally.
They perceive themselves to be the honey,
To an addicted bee.
And when that bee takes flight...
The one who believed the honey 'had' would last,
Discovers too late in a self reflection...
'That' bee was the only one,
Who could supply the honey preferred and liked.
To leave the one left for a taste for some.
When a craving missed...
Abandons a dismissed appetite.
And nothing done,
By those pretending to be 'that' bee...
Could come to satisfy like the one,
Who flew the hive!
After getting tired of being the one stung.
And what had been unconditional,
Is wished to return to quench the taste.
But the one who knows what it takes...
Can no longer waste what is made,
On anyone who believes...
They've got the only hive around.
And 'that' bee wont flee!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Closest Relatives
People hypnotized and transfixed,
Have grown more accustomed
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
So accustomed to myths,
People are.
And the praying to what is believed,
To what has been embedded
In their minds,
Exists.
People do not wish to be told,
About the thought process of Nature.
And how that goes.
Or about Earth and Mother Nature.
The relationship between them.
How that works and what they know.
People wish and desire to accept,
They are more powerful
Than that which 'allowed' them life,
And gave to them breath.
People reject with a dismissing of this,
That which gifted them and permitted their lives.
People have grown more accustomed,
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
Yet,
Give zero respect to their closest relatives.
The Sun, The Moon
And how together,
They affect their lives lived here on Earth.
People have chosen to become accustomed,
To ignoring as if they do not hear or listen.
Or are aware of them with comprehension.
People choose not to accept this as is.
People choose to believe from that which exist,
They are not born from it.
People choose for themselves to believe,
For them
There is no connection to perceive.
Even though what is they can not conceive,
Flows through their veins and bleeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Overnight Aging That Arrives
Ugly doesn't seem to care,
How early in the morning it is found on one's face.
And the entire body,
Feels as if it is being renovated.
With a work in progress taking place.
This aging process is done with more than just grace!
First a reaquaintance slowly begins.
To introduce a youthful mind,
To the 'vessel' that mind refuses to be trapped in.
Then an acceptible reality is encouraged,
With a tolerance one has to respect.
If this is not done with a kindness that reflects...
Folks who happen to see you publicly,
Will say what is believed one expects...
'You look SO good!
For 'your' age.
Not at all like you're ready for the grave.'
~Uh...
Thank you!
For the compliment?
I know what you meant.
I guess.~
And one feels inside someone has lied!
Especially when one knows how long it takes,
Of late...
To get ugly from taking a much longer ride.
With a regimen of ointments and pain killers,
To mask those aches one does not pride!
In the mornings when it is no longer safe,
For even one to find a place to hide...
From the 'overnight' aging that arrives!
And the time it takes for those aches to subside.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return Exactly What Was Given
Return exactly what was given to you,
To the one who gave it.
Refuse to accept.
And they will become offended by the act done.
With the telling to others of what you did.
And a mistreatment they received.
With a having of no idea why they were picked upon.
Or why the disrespect.
Return exactly what was given to you,
To the one who gave it.
And they will not admit to their own signature.
Or acknowledge from them it was sent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On a B4 Real Express
Apologizing those 'mistakes' made,
To erase an accountability...
Compromised and gone unrecognized,
Is often your excuse.
I'm not here to experience,
That kind of repeated abuse.
You believe I should be accustomed to?
Because you see a mirage of a fool before you?
Only one of us is on that bus!
And guess what?
There is no more 'us', boo!
A fool is a fool.
And you've betrayed that trust.
Guess what?
There is no more 'us', boo!
A fool is a fool.
And only one of us is on that bus!
I am on a different track.
Waiting for a train...
To go in another direction.
On a B4 Real Express.
And I aint looking back!
Only one of us is on that bus!
And guess what?
There is no more 'us', boo!
A fool is a fool.
And you've betrayed that trust.
Guess what?
There is no more 'us', boo!
A fool is a fool.
And only one of us is on that bus!
Apologizing those 'mistakes' made,
To erase an accountability...
Compromised and gone unrecognized,
Is often your excuse.
I'm not here to experience,
That kind of repeated abuse.
You believe I should be accustomed to?
Because you see a mirage of a fool before you?
Guess what?
There is no more 'us', boo!
A fool is a fool.
And only one of us is on that bus!
I am on a different track.
Waiting for a train...
To go in another direction.
On a B4 Real Express.
And I aint looking back!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Popularity Based Upon Testimony Received
Dangerous are the ones,
Uncomfortable in their own skins.
Easily influenced and absent of identity.
Personally untrustworthy.
Yet dutiful when given and assigned responsibility.
And programmed they are,
To achieve a popularity.
Based upon testimony received...
From those who are equally trained to deceive.
Successfully!
And that is reflective to the health of one's society.
Accepted to observe without comment if wished.
Or deny in one's defense which is commonly witnessed,
To make for them a conscious sense...
To what they do that's done.
For their own betterment and social standing perceived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Return To Silence
Return to silence
We need no violence
Fighting for freedom in a restless world
We are praying for peace
Without pain and disease
Heal the world and close your eyes
Return to silence
Return to silence
We need no violence
Fighting for freedom
Return to silence
Praying for peace
Pain and disease
Where is a real paradise
Where is the land without lies
We just have to find a better way
The loss of heaven is the price we pay
No more nightmares each and every day
We don't need any wars
People wanna change course
They want the union of love
Where's a heavenly place
For the whole human race
Without weapons and wars
Every being on earth, needs a dream in his soul
We need our freedom, let loose of control
The older we get the less we see our way
We think of the past, but now we are trapped
And if I want to know why, we are trying to deny
The loss of heaven's road, is the price we have to pay
Stop violence, let's come to one's sense
Return to innocence
Somewhere inside, we still feel to be a child
Where the eyes are big and the problems being mild
If we try to go against, the current of events
Sometimes we gonna loose but we have to take the chance
Always have in mind, things should change in peace
Searching for someone to help, the sad and lonely trough
It can be me or you, so what we gonna do
I have a clue, for me and for you
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baffled
There are those living
Who actually are convinced
They have power to enforce their beliefs
On other people to accept without objection
And these very same people
Regardless of the kind of enforcement they use
Are baffled that the cost of their attempts
Have their creditors making suggestions
As to what they should sell
To pay off their debts
Created to enforce others
To accept in a bowing done
How a way life lived
In in the best of their interests
Making not a bit of sense
Even to those debating themselves
In campaigns
Over realities they can no longer afford
To have others believe anymore
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tourniquet
I tried to kill the pain,
But only brought more.
(so much more)
Im dying,
And Im pouring, crimson regret, and betrayal.
Im dying,
Praying,
Bleeding,
Screaming.
Am I too lost to be saved ?
Am I too lost ?
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
Do you remember me ?
Lost for so long.
Will you be on the other side ?
Will you forgive me ?
Im dying,
Praying,
Bleeding,
Screaming.
Am I too lost to be saved ?
Am I too lost ?
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
(return to me salvation)
(I want to die!)
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My wounds cry for the grave.
My soul cries, for deliverance.
Will I be denied ?
Christ! tourniquet! my suicide.
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tourniquet
I tried to kill the pain,
But only brought more.
(so much more)
Im dying,
And Im pouring, crimson regret, and betrayal.
Im dying,
Praying,
Bleeding,
Screaming.
Am I too lost to be saved ?
Am I too lost ?
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
Do you remember me ?
Lost for so long.
Will you be on the other side ?
Will you forgive me ?
Im dying,
Praying,
Bleeding,
Screaming.
Am I too lost to be saved ?
Am I too lost ?
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
(return to me salvation)
(I want to die!)
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My god! my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My wounds cry for the grave.
My soul cries, for deliverance.
Will I be denied ?
Christ! tourniquet! my suicide.
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent Reflections
Silent reflections, of my life's tragic events;
Quiet contemplation, of my my heart's discontent!
Wheresoever yo may roam, I think now
How easily you were led astray, I wonder how!
Never making the disconnect, only the connection,
Brought to me in mere hours, only rejection!
Halt now, the madness, cease now, the sadness;
Return love, oblige me now, return to our love's gladness!
Heartbroken at actions of that day, and since;
Not at my love lost, just its consequence!
Ever-abundant is: love, understanding and passion;
Ever-needed: love's prescient glory and compassion!
Thoughts of beauteous memories, of days of yore-
Family first, then friends, as it was, gloriously, before!
Maurice Harris,8 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
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As if You Are Entitled to Do as You Please
Nothing done did you do,
Can be that easily dismissed...
From the act of you doing it.
And your belief that a forgiveness saves...
Has played out,
For those no longer...
In a forgetting of the past,
To start over again mode.
There is no patience anyone has,
For that kind of self centeredness.
As if you are entitled to do as you please.
Not here.
Not with me.
I can only play a fool for so long.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down to Earth
Expectations,
As expectations go...
Seem only to achieve,
A certain level of acceptance.
And to appease those with ambitions...
To be down to Earth without attempts,
To pollinate wishes and dreams...
Often considered out of reach and unobtainable.
May those who are believed to be out of touch...
By a seeking to break down walls of limitations,
One day be welcomed from their flights of 'fancy'...
In the sharing with others,
That the world is, indeed, round.
And not flat!
With those living in other places,
Experiencing the many cultures and races...
With an acknowledgement of that fact!
'YES!
I witnessed this with my own eyes.'
And unbelievable as it may seem to them,
There are others also 'down to Earth'.
And apparently living to explore it!
'YES!
I witnessed this with my own eyes.
Believe it.
It's true.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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