When Feelings Like These Are Felt
To be in the presence of adults,
Still in full possession of child like mentalities...
Gives me a chill.
The kind I know is noticed.
Listening to their depth or lack thereof,
Can be likened to a teacher taking a piece of chalk...
And scraping it across a blank blackboard.
Achieving a desired effect.
To gain attention...
From those prepared to be taught lessons.
Some who become 'startled' will awaken!
However...
Many who have skipped those classes,
To learn absolutely nothing...
Seem to be the ones seeking now to be heard.
With a comprehension that skims on the rim of shallowness.
And irritating anyone who has developed a patience.
A patience one can admit at times like this...
Seeks quietly to find an exit.
Before offensive comments begin to slip accidently,
Out from the mouth of one who is not seeking to be polite!
Or feels a need to accomodate others,
With a show of good social skills.
When feelings like these are felt,
It is time to cordially leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conceit
Conceit,
And the explicit unconsciousness of it.
Is not noticed by those seeking adulation.
They are on the scene,
To ensure others are aware of their presence.
And if a bullhorn used is not effective...
Methods to gain attention by insults expressed,
Is the only way they can leave long lasting impressions.
Even though nothing else is left addressed.
Like something valued with substance to profess.
But nothing from their lips,
Probes below a shallowness to expose that kind of 'depth'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Thieving Feeble Mind
Respect one of a thieving feeble mind.
Clearly misunderstanding,
Of a shallowness that confines.
An attention sought...
Is all that this kind seeks.
Irritating may be his deeds!
But from limited resources,
Is where his comprehension...
Without a reaching,
Keeps
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Little Teacher
At times a little teacher stands before me
With a smiling face.
And her sweet mouth speaks
Things I have never heard.
A cute girl of early teens,
A teacher of principles self imposed.
In her class I am the lone pupil
And she teaches me ever.
The chambers of my recollections past
Cry for a change perhaps,
My old teachers fade into oblivion
As my new teacher waits to steal in.
My learning is her choice
Though the subjects taught are none new.
No notes, no admonishing and no comparisons!
I begin to learn the mind of a growing child.
There arises only one question-
How long will she teach like this?
As she makes steps forward unto her tomorrows
I shall cease to be her pupil.
My steps are made as well
As the tomorrows won`t leave me alone.
Somewhere I may stand stranded with feeble feet
And the gale of ailments may begin to cross my frame.
Then I shall remember the lessons taught by you
My little teacher, my philosopher once
And I shall hold on to your kind love and care
Oh! My dear daughter, let us stop for now.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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It Is Best To Be Prepared
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
Would you trust one known to gossip...
With a secret,
You wished not have publicly exist?
Think about it!
Would you rely on someone,
Who has never committed to anything done?
But sit,
To give unsolicited opinions...
As if,
They have knowledge or wisdom you had not witnessed.
When someone like this gives you advice...
Don't be disrespectful by not listening.
Since you never know what is being said...
Will make you think about it more than twice.
Remember...
If you can tolerate BS?
Anything is possible.
Even a confession of ignorance.
I've done it!
And it is refreshing to become 'humblized'!
A process called 'growth' begins.
Just because a mouth is constantly open...
Doesn't mean expectations should be raised,
That anything worthwhile comes out of it.
But then again...
Never lower 'your' expectations,
That something coming out of a mouth like this...
Has not been visited by a thought process.
Connecting one day to make sense!
And you were blessed to have been made a gift of it!
The eyes and ears take over,
When the mouth is closed.
With observation and listening enhanced.
It is best to be prepared...
Anytime, any place, from anyone and anywhere!
Even birds don't fly seeking just a tree to land on.
Nor does wisdom exclusively come from those considered wise!
And 'that' took me a long time to realize,
My depth of comprehension...
Kept adding unto my understanding.
And at times my patience and tolerance I question.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Virtue Well Tested
'Patience, my child'
said with a loving touch
to calm the little one's restlessness,
that time is not moving quite fast enough
'Patience, my child'
said with a time tested grin
to teach another of time's leisureliness,
that eventually, life will begin
'Patience, my child'
said with a knowing heart
to mend the young one of their brokeness,
that one day, love will start
'Patience, my child'
said with much sympathy
to give insight to life's wretchedness,
that Providence remains almighty
'Patience, my child'
said to a tired heart and mind
to soothe the pain of his lonliness,
that soon Rest he will find
poem by Katherine Rhodes
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Patience Given
Patience given,
To those dealing with their insecurities...
Have several exceptions!
Patience given to a child,
Learning when and how to use a toilet.
Patience given to a child,
Going to school for the first time.
Patience given to a child,
Learning how to share.
Patience given to a child,
When left with a babysitter.
Patience given to a child,
When learning the difference...
Between telling a lie and being honest.
Patience given to a child,
When being taught to be responsible.
Patience given,
To those dealing with their insecurities...
Have several exceptions!
Extenuating exceptions beyond the call of reason,
Requires one to ignore with an ability...
That preserves a peace of mind one wishes,
To keep and maintain undisturbed...
By those who are,
Disturbed by their expectations to be exceptions...
To the rule.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lessons Are There to Be Taught
The lessons are there,
To be taught.
But too few have the patience to learn.
Believing themselves already with class.
Skipping to miss a comprehension for them,
That never occurs in their minds to stir.
Since a yearning for it stays left unearned.
To leave the value of understanding,
None of their concern.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: A Bit of Patience
A bit of patience works out miracles;
A bit of patience puts off arguments;
A bit of patience problems well tackles;
A bit of patience preserves monuments.
A bit of patience can avoid hatred;
A bit of patience cools one’s anger off;
A bit of patience marks well good kindred;
A bit of patience makes many to laugh.
A bit of patience keeps good friends at peace;
A bit of patience can avoid big wars;
A bit of patience can jealousy cease;
A bit of patience can avoid big scars.
A bit of patience gives good advantage;
A bit of patience is good heritage.
poem by John Celes
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In My Less Than Tolerant Youth
I don't resent those ignorant.
Since that word could apply to anyone...
Who believe they are in a position,
To condescend someone else.
Because of one's economic status!
Or, of one's color of skin.
We all learn lessons that seem to never end.
I have had great conversations,
With those considered less intelligent.
To leave them with a wealth of knowledge...
That left me seeking them out again!
And wondering 'if'...
I'd be accepted as a friend?
We all learn lessons that seem to never end.
And those who express opinions,
With open mouths and shut ears...
Are often those with minds that are closed,
To thoughts of others...
They oppose.
Have you ever heard those say,
With their own children they can not communicate?
Did you leave them comprehending...
How blessed the children one day will feel?
And their frustrated faces will be replaced,
To express in celebration if they just kept faith!
I've lived to witness miracles...
In my less than tolerant youth.
My mother and father would stop me with a look.
And I would freeze,
Daring to breathe.
Just when my own patience began to slip from lips!
Knowing then it was wiser for me...
To wait and listen!
And not make a big deal of it.
Or I'd find it unbearable for me to sit.
Followed by my mother's promises,
That any healing done would not be quick!
We all learn lessons that seem to never end.
With some being pointless,
To have them repeated again.
I've lived to witness miracles...
In my less than tolerant youth.
With pictures depicted painting a thousand words.
Only a few did I dare to review in pursuit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Then Leave
The seeking to get attention business,
Isn't all what it cracks up to be.
Those who seek no attention,
Are chased by those disbelieving,
No one wants to keep peace selfishly...
To be left alone.
And these might be the ones who first sought attention,
Initially.
Now...
Those who seek to get attention,
And with passion disguised by a lust...
Accompanied with deep breathing,
Could frighten someone seeking just to tease.
To then leave quietly...
To then go home to self satisfy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You are where you've been
You are where you've been.
Deciding that time would wait.
As you marinated in indecision.
You are where you've been.
Seeking the same acceptance,
As if this was a confirming reception.
You are where you've been.
Catching up with a made up mind...
Finding that times have changed.
You are where you've been.
And there is absolutely nothing,
That has remained the same.
And you giving in to what has begun,
Will not bestow upon you a patience...
From those empathetic with explanations,
Slowly participating in a show and tell.
That bling side of life you liked and kept polished...
Has been blemished by those ideals,
You hung onto too long.
And the fading of those times are gone.
You are where you've been.
Deciding that time would wait.
As you marinated in indecision.
You are where you've been.
Seeking the same acceptance,
As if this was a confirming reception.
You are where you've been.
Catching up with a made up mind...
Finding that times have changed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Caught Up In The Investing Of Bait
Those caught up in the investing of bait,
To have their way...
Find much too late,
We all will learn from our mistakes.
With lessons to learn.
And many of those lessons come,
Without the avoidance of heartache.
The ones who benefit most from this process,
Seem to be the ones selected to be victimized.
With opened eyes now wide and a clarity,
That does not keep them distanced.
A retaliation is sought to return a misunderstanding.
With the use of a mental weapon to unleash,
Like never before or ever felt needed to display.
Those caught up in the investing of bait,
To have their way find much too late...
How difficult it is to admit mistakes.
And escapes are out of the question.
Especially when the paying for them,
Comes at a time they can least afford.
As those baited are at the door seeking revenge.
'Remember me?
I have something of your doing,
I would like to return.
Don't look so frightened.
I am as harmless as you thought I was.
And I will do the best I can,
To leave you with a taste of it.
My interpretation...
Of course.
Aren't you going to invite me in? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When The Limits To Patience Diminish To None
When a patience known,
Had been unconditionally given...
With an administering to those,
To meet their requests met to be shown.
And people with their heightened expectations,
Can not be satisfied to set aside their undue selfishness.
To forget or not acknowledge to abide,
How patience becomes developed to give in the first place.
With a dismissing of it to believe it will never be erased.
And then one day...
That day many find hard to face,
All of the patience given comes to an end.
Never to be taken for granted again.
When all of those praying with a begging done.
With kept beliefs a giving of patience should to them come,
Become stunned.
When the limits of patience diminish to none.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Responsible
Taking action.
Regardless of the consequences,
That may come.
Relying upon experience.
And doing what needs to be done.
Disciplined without taking offense.
Defensive,
If what is done is thought to be right.
Having integrity...
With a dependable insight.
Willing to correct.
Realizing no one is perfect...
Yet.
Taking steps to accomodate,
Without hesitating to wait...
For decisions to take place.
Or one to be late,
With admitted commitments to make.
Showing a respect one does not neglect.
And keeping one's word...
With a comprehension,
One and all deserves.
Listening with attentiveness to every word.
Being 'there' and responsible.
Making sure of what has been shared and heard.
Dependable.
Thoughtful and reflective too.
Where are those...
With these traits today?
Where are they...
To show us the way?
Have they too felt much betrayed?
By those once trusted...
Crushed and now busted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whether This Embarrasses Or Not
Listen Carefully.
Forget merits of integrity.
And those with credentials to teach it,
But...
Somehow have missed quite a few lessons,
In the process of 'obtaining' a permit...
To be deemed accountable for their actions.
Doesn't it seem preposterous,
Absurd!
Like seeing a hippopotamus in leather hip boots,
To hear someone vehemently defame someone's character,
For a wrong that was 'supposedly' done to them on purpose...
When these very same people,
Have not shown a shred of accountability in 'anything'.
But expect to be lovingly embraced showing up hours late,
'After' an event has taken place.
To then be heard embellishing truths with extended exaggerations,
And overheard making the same excuses used for years...
To dispel their lack of respect for anyone or anything.
But yet...
Will have the audacity to announce what someone has done to them,
As if a patience awaiting to address their whims...
Will not for them run out!
And it will for them end whether this embarrasses or not.
People who don't 'get it' don't seem to want to,
If it should mean a taking away of an attention they receive...
By imposing their lack of concern for others' time or patience,
If it proves to them these acts are inconvenient to consider.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cultivate patience.
Patience must be to read a classic.
Patience must be to enjoy music.
Patience must be to bed a woman.
Greed must exit for patience to enter.
13.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man's best companion
Patience is the greatest weapon of man
By exercising patience
Every enduring task is accomplished
Patience is a kind of worship
It is a great service to God
When everyone deserts him
It is his patience that stands by him
In happiness patience prevents him From going astray
In his sorrow patience saves him
From being rigid to God
Patience is his best companion
Through thick and thin.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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I am o.k. you are o.k.
‘I lost my pen’
‘Don’t worry, I shall get you one’
A child like question
And an expected parental reply.
I am o.k., you are o.k.
‘I lost my pen’
‘I know you will do only that’
Parent reply belied the question.
I am o.k. You are not o.k.
‘I lost my pen’
‘You can borrow from me’
A child-like question.
An adult like answer.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘Is the bus late?
‘Which bus comes in time?
An adult seeking an adult
But received a parent reply.
I am o.k. You are not.
‘Is the bus late? ’
‘Yes, heard only ten minutes’
Both responded as adults.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘Let us play hide and seek’
‘Yes, let me hide first’
A child sought from a child
And received it.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘Let us play hide and seek’
‘No, this is not the time’
The reply is parental
And belied the question.
I am o.k. You are not.
‘Let us play hide and seek’
‘Yes. Then we should read’
A child and an adult reaction
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘You should not smoke’
‘Yes. I shall cut it’
A parental question.
An adult reply.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘You should not smoke’
‘First, you cut your chewing’
A parental question
Seeking a child answer
But was belied.
I am o.k. You are not.
‘She should be taught a lesson’
‘ Yes, otherwise she will worsen’
A parent seeking a parent and got.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
‘I love you.’
‘I can’t forget you.’
Both are adult,
Expecting and receiving
As adults. I and you are o.k.
‘I love you’
‘Shh.. Others may watch”
A child’s reply to a child
Both are o.k.
‘I love you’
‘Bitch! Go to hell; I’ll report’
A parental reply, instead.
I am o.k. You are not.
‘I love you.’
‘I think you misunderstood.’
Both behaved as adults.
I am o.k. You are o.k.
You be the way you are expected.
You are then o.k. to others.
When others fail to be the way
You expected, you reason for it.
Others will be o.k. to you.
Then where is the individuality?
27.01.2000, Kottayam
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Patience
Patience is a virtue.
You'll need it to stay true.
Whenever you are feeling blue.
Faith, and patience will always pull you through.
Though at times it may seem bleak,
and hope is very weak.
Be patient and you'll find what you now seek.
Love is patience which you really need.
Push too hard and good will leave.
The patient man will take the lead.
Rewarded well for this virtious seed.
With which he grew and paid his dues.
The impatient man will always lose.
So wait your turn, ignore the burn.
With patience now you'll not be spurned.
poem by Michael McParland
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They Are Not The Kind
Am I stuck to plunge,
When I have not desired this?
They have been the wicked ones...
May I slip away and exit this ship?
I have been a servant.
Not a master of any ways.
I do what I must do then leave.
I have let them believe I am their slave.
However...
What is going on today,
Looks a bit bleak.
And under sunrays appears very grave.
There has been so many messages,
Delivered to these folks.
Everything they heard that warned...
They turned into a festival,
Backstabbed messengers...
And made them jokes to poke!
Am I stuck to plunge,
When I have not desired this?
They have been the wicked ones...
May I slip away and exit this ship?
OR...
If I may make one suggestion?
Those sitting over there,
Have the expertise...
To repair this like brand new!
They can...
And do that quick!
But, of course, I understand...
They are not the kind,
You wish to see command!
Correct?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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