Where Lieutenants Of Apartheid Train
Home of the plastic smile.
And where lieutenants of apartheid train.
With a doing of their homework in the suburbs...
To test the inner city people they deplete of resources.
And divide within districts to 'apply' for assistance.
These separatists insist with dieing colonialistic wishes,
They know something about diversity.
With a sucking of life from everything that moves...
They suppress with an effectiveness,
To ensure those they stereotype be kept duped and fooled...
As they maintain a draining of their identities.
And the ones survivining without them are obliged,
To remain limited to an ignorance for them that thrives...
With a persisting upon it to keep flourished and alive,
To please the oppressors they pray not to offend.
And in the environment they share to live in...
This reflects a mindset left to breathe as if to snuggly fit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Death By Gossip
It is amazing.
They have never spoken
To the people they slander.
They don't even know them...
Or have sat to chat in discussion.
Some are related.
Although that means very little.
They weren't raised to build one another up.
They were encouraged to belittle.
And damage their own!
This has been known and shown.
These childish minds have never grown.
They are left alone.
Death by gossip and munching on ignorance.
Peering over fences.
And using lack of knowledge to offend,
As a defense.
Death by gossip,
And buried in jealousies.
This has been implanted...
To ensure this breeding would within them live,
And breathe.
They were encouraged to belittle.
And damage their own!
This has been known and shown.
These childish minds have never grown.
They are left alone.
With no input to keep a survival thriving!
Slowly dieing on lies.
Since this has been inflicted with ambition.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let The Digging Begin
Those who sought less outside involvement,
In their lives...
Were the first to cry,
They were dieing inside...
From a lack of resources.
Now that they've chosen,
And won to receive less assistance...
To feed their needs.
They are now proclaiming,
They wish more greed to proceed.
Shall we...
Let the digging begin?
No one wishes their fantasies to end!
And blaming the leadership,
That borrowed from others that fed them...
Foolishly over the edge,
Those blind jump in...
To avoid a crisis they initiated and began.
Let,
The digging...
Begin!
Those that make sense to them,
Offend.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Annual Recycling of Needs
The annual recycling of needs,
Is an inner city ritual.
The people are programmed to believe...
Their fortunes are less than the rest.
And so they are assigned to become protected,
By those the government selects...
They should receive assistance,
IF they qualify!
Of course many are denied,
The taste of keeping them enslaved!
They become disrespectful,
Unmotivated, lazy and mentally depraved.
They become conditioned to pray.
And they stay away from truths.
Becoming accepting of lies,
They pursue to overcome insecurities...
And immaturity keeps them as children,
To be told everything they say and do!
And when opportunities come to them,
They remain unprepared.
And for generations many of them can not comprehend...
Their uselessness has been designed,
To remove them from identities.
With mediocrity as goals to achieve.
And minds ignorantly limited.
Distant from reality.
And kept successfully unaware!
In an annual recycling of needs that is permitted...
To keep them subserviant!
And ensuring they remain there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Smile
It was her smile that caught my heart
The smile that set her apart.
A smile so captivating
That had my heart hesitating.
Her smile like the sun rising in the east
Putting your mind completely at peace.
She had a smile that could melt butter.
Like her - there is no other.
Now she is going away - 'and to where'
She would not say.
She packed up her bags and boarded the train
And my heart will never be the same.
She smiled at me once again
as the train neared the end
Yet! As the train had pulled away
I thought I saw A teardropp in her eyes,
as if she was about to cry.
I got her friend to tell me why she had left
When she told me - it was because of a test.
All sorts of thoughts started to enter my mind
That she had cancer or was going blind.
Her friend said She had passed the military test
and wanted to surprise me with the rest.
That she agreed to marry me and we
Could live on camp rent free.
Her smile I will now see every day
And to my lord I do pray.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Java's Ghost Nuclear Reactors
live on the island of Java
one of the most densely
populated places on earth
in a suburb on the edge of
Bintaro next to Tangerang
regency over 2.6 million
a few million people in
our suburbs outside Jakarta
a paradox merge mega city
seven districts Ciputat,
Ciputat Timur, Serpong,
Serpong Utara, Pamulang,
Pondok Aren, and Setu
with a total population
of 1.2 million scattered
near my home form part
of Tangerang regency just
a few of many suburbs of
South Tangerang 26 districts
rezoned was 36 districts
3.4 million people in 2009
just one side to a mega city
about 15 k from the nearest
nuclear reactor there are
another two one over an
hour away by car in Bundung
the city my wife's parents
come from here but they
live in a suburb of Jakarta
called Cijantung in East
Jakarta close to city Bogor
on the way to Bundung the
other nuclear reactor is in
Jogakarta big cities suck up
power Jakarta the big durian
never sleeps misses heart beat
but my house is quiet the law
is elastic so like a local here I
usually never wear a motorcycle
helmet within 5 or 10 kilometres
from home unless riding to
nearby Serpong four on the
bike two adults two children
Indonesian style because this
is normal in these our suburbs
but this city in Indonesia kills
over 1500 on the roads yearly
motorbikes hitting potholes in
the road monthly can hit over
30 dead in a single bad pot holed
month but out here we avoid all
smoke-belching three-wheeled
vehicles stinging eyes throats in
hours of snarl traffic or gridlock
a happy man here lives five minutes
from work not two or three hours
of traffic conflict away so worry
over run down reactors does not exit
locals do not even know they are there
immediacy includes no might future fear
Indonesia hugging Pacific ring of fire
volcanoes mud slides kill thousands
Aceh Tsunami 2004 killed 230,000
Indonesians reactors presently score nil
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Town By The Sea
Here only the air that you breathe it is free
All else you pay for in the Town by the sea
The sea air is cleaner you do hear some say
Yet few happy faces for to brighten one's day.
For people from the suburbs a weekend get away
From the noise and pollution they live with every day
Two days by the sea does cost them two days pay
Sea-side towns not cheap to stay in such is life some might say.
The old town by the sea is a bright and breezy place
Though few people here with a smile on their face
Mid sunday afternoon their drive back to the suburbs is about to begin
Their two day break went so fast in life 'tis hard to win.
Even in the Winter a quiet time of year
Accomodation in the town by the sea seems quite dear
So few smiling faces around me I do see
And only the air that you breathe does seem free.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Attempts Made To Prevent Change
A routine affixed to descriptions of stability,
Once depicted in overtures praised...
Has not strengthened aging to crumble foundations,
Built in days to glorify values and standards.
But has stubbornly resisted,
Against a flexibility these days lived...insist.
Time has proven,
Only that which is flexible sustains and endures...
With drastic adjustments made if needed,
Enabling innovative proactive actions consideration,
To continue forward with a pace that stays,
Current and updated to appreciate.
Reassuring those still left afraid....
That a future faced must let go of a grasp,
Wishing to maintain the relevance...
Of a quickly fading and dieing past.
And any attempts made to prevent change,
Will not or can it as is...in ignorance, forever last.
Reviewing to revisit and remininsce the past,
Would better serve a cost effectiveness...
If left to exhibit in museums.
Isn't that the purpose for them?
To visit and review what is on display...
Then to leave what has been exhibited when finished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wont Get Fooled Again
Wont get fooled agian
Well be fighting in the streets with our children at our feet and the morals
That they worship will be gone and the men who spurred us on sit in judgement
Of all wrong they decide and the shotgun sings the song Ill tip my hat to the
New constitution take a bow for the new revolution smile and grin at the change
All around pick up my guitar and play just like yesterday then Ill get on my
Knees and pray we dont get fooled again the change, it had to come we knew it
All along we were liberated from the fold, thats all and the world looks just
The same and history aint changed cause the banners, they are flown in the
Next war
Ill tip my hat to the new constitution take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around pick up my guitar and play just like
Yesterday
Then Ill get on my knees and pray we dont get fooled again no, no! Ill move
Myself and my family aside if we happen to be left half alive Ill get all my
Papers and smile at the sky though I know that the hypnotized never lie do ya?
Theres nothing in the streets looks any different to me and the slogans are
Replaced, by-the-bye and the parting on the left are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight Ill tip my hat to the new
Constitution take a bow for the new revolution smile and grin at the change all
Around pick up my guitar and play just like yesterday then Ill get on my knees
And pray we dont get fooled again dont get fooled again no, no!
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! meet the new boss same as the old boss
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Mentality of One's Ignorance
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
One's environment exposes them...
To a comfort they grow to thirst.
People of limited securities,
Are the first to label and compare.
Uncertain of their own identities...
They use status and class,
To separate themselves...
In communities as if others are diseased.
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
Beliefs and standards are subsidized,
To qualify one's worth.
And the ones who are at a disadvantage...
Aren't the ones who are depicted as poor!
The ones whose lives are victimized...
Are those who take from others,
With a quest that feeds a need for more!
And unsatisfied with their own lives...
They refuse to respect other cultures,
By imposing their own,
Upon foreign shores.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home Train Improvisation 04 02 2004
HOME TRAIN:
Improvisation Number 01 24 04
From city light horizons she is going to become my day-lady
rising too soon sprung spouting with tulips and the early spring
on the home train my heart beats fiddle bass tones and sings
desperate reasoning in the heart: why her whole body stands on
my soul softly resting upon that generation of secret separate trusts
intended in the passing smile for the joy of being alive being alive
for just one more day from distant light horizons on the home train
from distant city light horizons my city leaves me with my lady
my joy on the home train to soon sprung early tulips crocus in
the rain in the solar fun my lady to soon sprung in the early spring
all rise to spread the joy and join the fun on the home train for just
one more day from distant light horizons my city leaves me with
my lady on the home train to soon my heartbeats fiddle bass tones
and sings she is too soon sprung joyously into spring my heart beat
sings for her whole body stands on my soul softly resting in my joy
time is passing rapaciously through the night passing city after city
the home train races out of light horizons sucking my city away
fading into the rhythm of the blues quietly my lady to soon sprung
begins to make her midnight move joyously leaping into spring
blooming with the rising sun with tulips and the joy of passing time
rapaciously through the night I will hold her softly for nothing more
than the repetitious passing of time while she will hold me too; city
after city the home train races out of light horizons onto spirit lifted
tracks with my lady to soon sprung from city light horizons on
the home train from distant light horizons the city leaves a mellow
glowing cinder each time I leave her she is the love that draws me
back; city after city now nearer home where my love to soon sprung
in springs come and gone she is my wife my mistress my platonic
friend city after city wherever she lets me in; she’s with me every day
she sits with me on the home train she sits a seat away at the cinema
on the benches in the park in the lobby the dining and the sleeping car
the lounge and café I sleep where the memories stay -on the home train.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permission.
poem by Lee B Mack
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Status Quo Ante
Diversity...
Is a rehearsal of intentions,
Practice within boundaries...
Of protected traditions.
To insure the status quo ante,
Is represented in ways not to offend
Values non existing although referenced...
When making comparisons to uphold quotas!
And keeping the 1800's fresh...
Although outdated to keep a way of life 'alive'
With a dieing progress...
That seeks to control and re-invent change!
In attempts to prevent a constant evolution.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Another Perspective
In the City of Pretense,
People live at a low vibration.
They pride themselves in snooping.
Duped by drug enhanced encounters.
Bounced,
From illusions fostered...
By judgement passing done.
Winning favor of the master,
Dazed by colonialistic ways
That betrays any progress made.
Pathological inproprieties,
Begins to leave many wishing
To receive a replacement...
For tossed rose colored glasses,
Bartered.
Hoping a selection of tints and hues desired,
Will provide another perspective accepted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Path Of Time
Whether of present or past
Or future if you please
The time that you portray
Moves only for yourself
Some choose to live in the past
Lost hopes and dreams they share
But time only last
Until they release the burden they bear
Some choose to live in the present
And behold the sights of each day
A balance of decisions for 10 second frames
And everything always seems fair
Some people look towards the future
To see long term effects unfold
However long it takes to get there
They keep persisting towards their goal
I chose to live in the present
Ignore the past and future presence
And live life like I will not see the next day
And still not have to care
But if I provide an example
For past, present, or future
My path is still my own
And moves only for myself
poem by Logan Fulk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Intent of Your Analogies
How can you accuse me of being racist,
When I am the one profiled...
In my own backyard.
Microscoped and studied!
How can you do this?
And insist on using comparisons.
With statistics to prove and show...
My abilities and progress,
You publicly announce is below yours!
And decidedly quite slow.
How can you say I live substandardly?
When you are there to ensure,
My advancements made are limited...
As you wish them by your actions to be.
And the affects of your oppression,
Only reflects your insecurities.
Tinged with your obsession
Anyone who has lived to witness this,
Knows how preposterous your allegations.
And the intent of your analogies.
Glorified with a suppression you possess.
And it is no coincidence,
'Anal' is the root that summarizes your excuses.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Month Of Re-Enforcing Stereotypes Has Arrived
The month of re-enforcing stereotypes has arrived.
With a naming of a few who broke away from them,
To remind others they too have the same potential...
If they embraced discipline, devotion and a work ethic.
It's the month of re-enforcing stereotypes.
And folks who have waited to use the words 'niggers'
'coons', 'jungle bunnies' and other degrading references...
Depicting people of color,
Can do so to say they are celebrating bondage.
Since...
Isn't that the purpose?
To keep people reminded of their slave mentalities.
OR like some folks like to address their 'connections' as...
Keeping themselves down to Earth.
And...
With much assistance,
What a good job people have done...
To prove a legacy of ignorance can have its visual benefits,
For all who are determined to keep stereotypes alive.
Note:
Are these images subtle? Not anymore. In fact depictions of
ignorance 'are celebrated where I live in Hartford, Connecticut.
And thought to be 'cute' by those totally absent of identity.
When a picture from Kemble's Coons (Authored by Edward Windsor Kemble)
shows a coon with a naked black child sitting high in a tree,
eating on an ear of corn, and I know this reflects the mindset of the people...
this picture released and shown to begin celebrating Black History Month,
can be upsetting. ESPECIALLY when there is no acknowledgement, whatsoever,
of Jimmy Brown who was the first Black President of The Hartford Board of Education.
AND those who are 'celebrating' those deeds of black folks in this 'town'...
Have no idea who he is.
'Is 'this' poetry? Is 'this' a slice of life? Yes, it is. A poetic flowing of an intention! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something To Offend
One's prolonged obsession,
With soliciting empathy...
Eventually gains them a sympathy,
For possessing a mentality...
That has left a maturity,
Something to offend the ones...
Who will never in their minds,
Self examine their insecurities to address it.
And it continues to hurt those,
Forced to remain stunted and stagnant...
By those who can not divorce from the hold,
On their limited views on growth...
While advocating the advancement of ignorance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Themes of Self Patheticness
Most of their lives they have degraded themselves.
Looked down upon their neighbors.
And desrespected their children...
By offering them a life deplete of discipline.
Today these same people,
Share grief and sorrow!
All claiming to have faith.
These same people pray in their temples...
To come out of them,
With nothing positive to say.
And yet...
With their 'down-to-Earth' outlooks,
Most of their lives they have degraded themselves.
Believing such ignorance,
Would produce floral bouquets from garbage they discard.
And remaining hopeful success would come to be bestowed.
'What about us?
No one seems to care! '
And themes of self patheticness...
Are replayed in a rhetoric that is absent of consciousness!
Or one that connects and comprehends the affects,
Of an ignorance celebrated and devoid of all expectation!
Accepting only that...
Which has been applied and nurtured,
As part of one's culture and understanding kept defended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Breathe
Twenty-seven times I paint the city in lights
Now I changed my mind
I was living fast now I'm running on empty
And I feel yeah I feel
You're gonna go, let me go
Breathe, and I breathe
It's bitter without you I can't live without you
And I'm in love with you
Stood the test of time
Though I treated you rough you were always kind
I let my head rule my heart now I'm feeling so lonely
And I feel it's the deal
You're letting me go gonna go
Breathe and I breathe
Hollow without you I can't live without you
And I'm in love with you
Breathe I believe
Empty without you I can't live without you
And I'm in love with you
Breathe, and I breathe
It's bitter without you I can't live without you
And I'm in love with you
Breathe I believe
Empty without you I can't live without you
And I'm in love with you
Breathe I believe
I can't live without you I can't live with you
And I'm in love with you
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Shared Like Gifts
It is still a Dutch colony.
With those who control it...
Coming to go,
To inflict their racial acrobatics.
It is divided by invisible fences.
With those of ethnic faces
Displaying their daily infighting defenses.
And there is funding for everything done.
To ensure comprehension...
Is something never to be understood,
With understanding that comes.
They want them at their dumbest.
And that is preferred and accepted.
And those of color who have ever contributed?
The great deeds they have done...
Have been from this place 'booted'.
As if they had made none!
And ignorance is shared like gifts received.
Along with the apartheid obviously applied...
By those who are equally mentally limited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Get Done And With Competence
I don't intend to offend when I begin,
To write...
It just happens,
Within my scope of a life I define...
From my point of view.
And,
Hey...
This point of view is mine!
Today...
I am not selling congeniality.
Nor am I embittered with that kind of...
Mood swinging attitude,
Like some say I am since I do walk,
As if I've got swagger.
And not pulling myself,
Through a field of molasses.
You know...
Like the ones who humble themselves,
To be accepted while filling out a job application.
With their bowed heads and upturned eyes?
And their smile-on-cue demeanors.
I am respectful not a clown!
And I do not 'yes' my way through conversations.
If I have an opinion...
I might express it 'If' I am challenged,
To apply my experience and intelligence...
When communicating a seriousness left,
I wish to leave.
Although I have had my share of injustices.
Some blatant and some masked as if...
I am to understand my minority status,
As a declared human being.
And people who approach me that way,
Are left learning a few lessons.
'The world is a classroom.'
Whenever there is a need to be taught,
A few things about life.
Since I do enjoy delivering...
Some concepts of my own.
I don't often 'trip' like that!
And it does offend those who believe,
I should know my place!
And their place?
Not to get in my way...
If I am expected to perform a task,
To get done and with competence.
Which to 'them' and those like them...
Is another thing that offends.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!