En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Wide and Unapologetically Grounded

All their lives,
They had spent in the pursuit of things.
Things they were told would bring to them happiness...
And status!

Attend they did prestigious schools.
To enhance a pretentiousness invested.
Just to prove...
They could have the best,
Of what a selfishness in greed could buy!

Some took their pride to stride about proudly,
With titles.
Invited to hide and disfigure any insecurities.
And they had them to mask!
These tasks were assisted in their smotherings.

This increased their worthiness.
With affectations intact...
And attached to snobbiness.
Until one day...
Their plastic existences lost support!
Beginning to drift away.
An abortion of fantasies,
Had caught them off guard.
And nothing they obtained,
Brought with it such stinging pain.

A shallowness hidden,
They could no longer maintain.
It brought their sorrows to deepen.
And showed them to be shallow,
Even in their shame...
They claimed and bartered dignities.
As if this would keep them from looking foolish!
A look they had no idea,
Had long not been sought to reflect honesty.
Or a depth of thought imagined,
That could or would exist in these minds.

Thank You Father...
For opening my eyes,
Wide and unapologetically grounded.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deceit Can Not Keep Them Hidden

Losing is not born from honesty.
Those who are honest...
Realize they can not always win.
Those who do anything to win,
View themselves as losers.
They blame others for their failures.
Provoked fights are started.
Lies are told.
They ban together...
Sometimes in darkness.
With attacks they wish to feed their greed,
And insecurities.
They have needs to prove their superiority.
They will do anything to be believed!
Deceit can not keep them hidden.
Everything is lost!
Even a pride and dignity once had,
Becomes worthless!
They wish for happiness.
But 'that' within them,
Has never been defined.
They have no patience in their minds.
No time is spent for it to be developed.
They are engulfed with pointless pleasures.
And listening is a thing they have never done.
They view that as weak.
Nothing for them is gained.
And whatever was possessed,
Has ceased to be valued!
An increase of depression is confessed.
Leaving them to self destruct.
They label what they do...
And what has been done as an overview,
As a recession from misdeeds.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Furthermore...

If those chosen who have obtained,
Untouchable status...
And there are many who are self ordained,
Began to scrutinize and fire from positions...
The ones hand picked and selected,
To represent their standards valued.
There would be few people left if any at all,
Impressive enough to still maintain,
A wholesome pretentiousness that is a must.

To keep intact their annointed declarations.

Without...
A casting about a tainting of false images.

Images expected to reflect the 'ideal'.
But not the reality that a self righteous...
Holier-than-thou presentation sustains,
That many have grown to imitate with the best of hypocrisy.

AND..
Are the causes for the uprising of threats,
Used to confuse the minds of those already proving...
To rebel against this process invented and documented,
Around the world.

Those few who are dissenting from such correctness,
Just do not get it!
And should be removed from their seats of assumed power,
To be publicly denounced as mentally and physically...
Unable to perform their tasks with the utmost intended integrity.

And furthermore...
To show that they are not capable to do this,
Is an abomination to all who are appalled by such behavior.
As evident by those who can no longer contain their disgust.

'I have to think about the use of 'And furthermore...'
It sounds too,
Proclamationish.
However...
I do like the formality it generates..
But I do think you should read this 'after' and not 'before',
Dinner is served.
How do the others feel about it? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Entwined In Concepts

Both of their minds were entwined in concepts of relationships.
Wanting their own to be one that was perfect.
And defining that with having good credit.
With things believed that would keep them in bliss.

And when these 'things' began to lose their sheen...
Less interest in themselves slowly could be seen.
The need to constantly be together became a non-necessity.
With a wish to be alone in one's own space.
In a place the other was either invited...
Or not invited to be.

And a love between them,
Although expressed...
Was missed.
Leaving dreams and desires,
To be held and kissed...
Becoming less obsessive.
And often dismissed.

As those things cherished gathered dust with time.
There was an emptiness felt!
And invited.
Under one roof where no happiness once there,
For them.
No longer, for them, they could find!

Yet and regretfully...
Both of their minds were entwined in concepts of relationships.
Wanting their own, they did, to be one that was perfect.
And defining that with having good credit.
Loans and debts could not keep this correct.
With things believed that would keep them in bliss.
Gone was 'that' and any remnants of happiness.

And when their credit became less than good.
They found themselves in arguments...
Blaming the other for a wasted life spent.
And agreeing to split is what they should do,
To prove this less the expensive.

With a being together for them now making less sense.
As they express to others,
They've done the best they could.
But a love to make better wasn't theirs to save.
Nor was it there from the beginning!
And this had been the costly mistake they made!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plastic Man

A man lives at the corner of the street,
And his neighbors think hes helpful and hes sweet,
cause he never swears and he always shakes you by the hand,
But no one knows he really is a plastic man.
Hes got plastic heart, plastic teeth and toes,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got plastic knees and a perfect plastic nose.
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got plastic lips that hide his plastic teeth and gums,
And plastic legs that reach up to his plastic bum.
(plastic bum)
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man dont feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He cant disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
Hes got plastic flowers growing up the walls,
He eats plastic food with a plastic knife and fork,
He likes plastic cups and saucers cause they never break,
And he likes to lick his gravy off a plastic plate.
Plastic man got no brain,
Plastic man dont feel no pain,
Plastic people look the same,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Kick his shin or tread on his face,
Pull his nose all over the place,
He cant disfigure, or disgrace,
Plastic man (plastic man).
Hes got a plastic wife who wears a plastic mac,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
And his children wanna be plastic like their dad,
(yeah, hes plastic man)
Hes got a phony smile that makes you think he understands,
But no one ever gets the truth from plastic man (plastic man)
Plastic man (plastic man).

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dignitized With Pride

They have obtained Master degrees,
From prestigious schools.
But nothing in this dedication...
Reveals an identity secured for preservation.

Blinded without foresight by pretense,
And the lure of greed.
A resuscitation comes too late...
to stop a shallowness that bleeds.

They did not realize,
A chase to accomplish would shut their eyes.
With hollowed achievements and weakened beliefs...
The lofty aims they claim have been downsized.

And those who chose to cement their presence...
With an acknowledgement to show,
A history they owe takes precedent.
They have consciously sacrificed their 'gifts'
God has blessed them with!

And dignitized with pride that lifts...
Not only themselves,
But generations to follow
With an assist that documents.

Unclouding a future...
Today subdued,
In useless decadence.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Equally As Sad

Doesn't it strike you as 'funny'?
I do.
That the 'nothingness' I once had,
And meant to you 'then'...
Has now risen in value.

And all those 'things' you wished,
That brought you a 'status'...
And a happiness,
Has diminished in worth.
Don't you feel you've been cursed?

And that 'nothingness' I still have...
Is priceless.
That same nothingness,
You wish you could now afford.
Since your 'circumstances',
Has brought you down to Earth.

Doesn't it strike you as 'funny'...
That your taste for things and money,
Has changed in its importance?
I do.
In fact...
You should be laughing hysterically,
By now!

And...
Somehow.
As much as I want to laugh at you...
I can't do it.
There are too many fools trying to prove...
Like you,
That the look on their faces...
Expressing heartache,
Is faked.

And I don't find that funny at all.
I thought I would.
But I don't.

Even he who laughs last...
I have discovered,
Doing it alone...
Is equally as sad.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Came To Deliver Your Dreams

I came to you.
Believing I was needed.
Believing I assisted,
With the sharing of your happiness.

I came to you.
But from your point of view,
I was in need of charity.
And you sacrificed your donations to please.

Either way,
We spent little time communicating our minds.
With more of it invested in foolish misunderstandings.
Without accepting the giving intended,
In the sharing of blessed gifts to offer.
And the basic caring to fulfill our needs.

Either way,
We allowed appearances to get in our way.
And on the day we met,
I was not thinking of being impressive.
I came to deliver your dreams.
With not a thought premeditated,
For profound commentary.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Collection Sessions

Bring back my fantasies.
You can't take those from me!
I was born to believe in them.
Don't confuse the issue...
By introducing,
A reality that I refuse.

Bring back my fantasies.
Don't remove those concepts...
Or those needs.
I was raised to accept philosophies.
Based on beliefs,
My worth was purchased...
Financed, mortgaged and taxed
With a long term lease.

I was raised to have 'things' and things I wish.
Now I'm told none of this may soon exist?
Is this a joke?
Is there a punchline with it?
If there is I just don't get it!
But I have a degree to do what I please?
All my life,
I've been teased to acquire these!
As a remedy to obtain a life of ease.
And now your saying,
My piece of pie is denied?
And it has 'moments' left before it leaves?
Who put you up to this?
To lie to me?

Bring back my fantasies.
You can't take those from me!
I was born to believe in them.
Don't confuse the issue...
By introducing,
A reality that I refuse.

What will my neighbors think?
If I show nothing that I've gained?
With repossessions I face.
And everything to lose...
Except for my shame!
In collection sessions?
My life wasn't lived for that goal to aim!
Bring back my fantasies.
Why are you torturing only me?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Feel a Sense of Worthlessness

If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
They have given you a sense of status.
And without them,
You feel a sense of worthlessness.
And you have paid a price to have them.
Even when they must be taken away...
They seem to stale with the commonplace of their use.
Taken for granted and has seduced...you,
Into shameless needing!
Like an appendage depended upon.

And you?
You try not to feel lost without them!
But you lay craving their use.
Feeling useless.
You can not do without them.
They are attached like a habit.
Like a muscle flexed.

They grow on you to affix themselves.
Like a missing leech recognized when absent.
However...
These taxing blood suckers have no feeling for you at all.
They are just things!
Things.
Things.
And yet those things...
They stay on your mind!
On your mind they stay.
And yet...those things?
If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
Would you recognize yourself,
Without them?

Who are you anyway?
Do you know?
Have you cared to know?

If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
They have given you a sense of status.
And without them,
You feel a sense of worthlessness.
And you have paid a price to have them.
Even when they must be taken away...
They seem to stale with the commonplace of their use.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suddenly I'm No Longer Attached

Suddenly I'm no longer attached,
And there is something inside of me
That welcomes that.

Years of my activities,
And concern...
Would leave me quite frantic.
Feeling overworked, strained and burned.

I am satisfied with those things I've tried.
And making a footprint no one can deny.

Everywhere I placed my steps,
Not one did I do without dignity and pride.
I need no one to qualify my stride.
My mark has been placed,
Before and not behind witnessing eyes.
I seek no approval for my deeds neglected.

I'm not awed by applause.

My functions have been upfront.
And for some the intent,
Has been meant to be most personal.

I'm not a backside biter!
And that is a fact!

Suddenly I'm no longer attached,
And there is something inside of me
That welcomes that.

That You, Father.
As long as You are pleased!
With me and deeds I've created,
You have helped me make to leave.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Tasks Are Deeper Than That

It is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.

My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.

It is not for adulation,
I crave to taste.
Or applause to acknowledge,
I have talents gifted...
From an unseen higher place.

My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.

It's a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.

I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.

My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.

Impatient with waste.
And with those who procrastinate.
No excuses do I make...
With those who fake life.
And seek ways to escape.

I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.

And no emotional limitations,
Will interfere with my deeds...
In a preventive escalation.
That within me,
Gets no empathy.

I'm not here to sob and weep,
To have insecurities of others...
Stop this stride in a movement I keep.

I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.

And it is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.

My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.

It is a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.
And these deeds from me I promise to deliver!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hurting From Inside

Pretensions used as a defense fails.
A truth of a reality,
Impales an ignorance.
They wish the blood that seeps,
Stops an honesty that can not be faced.
But they are not willing to heal the pain,
Hurting from inside.
They wish alone to cry.

The bleeding does not subside.
And denial keeps them fading,
With false dignities!
Exposing a tattered pride that all can see.
This is perceived to conceal their grief.
And yet it is not hidden!

A cure desired does not publicly endure,
Their constant sorrows.
They choose to refuse to admit,
The origin of their pain!
Denouncing the reason why they see no gains!
And they remain,
Lost amongst themselves...
Without identities.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Life...needs A Change...

Amidst the modern wrath,
honesty is a long forgotten path,
lies are floating in the air,
people just dont seem to care,
i seem to have lost our way,
i wonder if things will ever be okay.

Hearts are empty,
feelings are bitty,
minds are narrow,
thougts are shallow,
i am running on an endless road,
constantly to myself i goad.

In the midst of this scheol,
i wonder if i'll ever be cool,
i wonder if i'll ever shack,
will i be able to cover up what i lack,
there is a constant sense of pain,
and yet i go through it all again.

But there is still hope,
that perhaps i may be able to elope,
this place, this world, this feeling, these lies,
as still honesty within me tries,
yet somehow within it lives on,
trying to show how to hold on.

Soon there will be a day,
when yet again i'll be allay,
i'll have found that inner peace,
and shall be at ease,
the lies shall then galumph,
as honesty within us shall triumph....

poem by Ritika Abigail Masih
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here to Give

I am here to give.
Not wallow away,
In your solicitation...
To be understood for 'your' insecurities.
While you self indulge,
Seeking opportunities...
To feed more of your greed.

Or subject myself to listening to testimonies,
Of how your needs are not being met to please...
More of your selfishness.

I am here to give.
And feel blessed...
I am not caught up,
In attempts to make impressions.

'But you ain't got a penny and your pocket.
Or a bucket to carry anything claimed you own.'

Who is to say I was the one needing those things?
And someone else didn't?

Like I said...
I am here to give.
And not to impress...
You or anybody else,
In the doing of what it is 'I' do!

Does that provide you with a hint or a clue,
As to how I feel about your assessment made of me?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Narrow, Shallow and Mundane

Narrow, shallow and mundane.
Many have decided to resist this and split.
And not try to make any sense of it.

A peace of mind obtained,
If it can remain sustained...
Should be valued and claimed.
Along with a name that is not defamed.

To sit and witness a twistedness,
Is not healthy to absorb to maintain in one's brain.

See the narrow, shallow and mundane,
As a motivating factor to quit.
To allow the Sun to lift,
From a drenching rain.
It is possible to live life without conflict.

Separate from those,
Who have made this their reality.
They are in a collective mix.
And fixed...
To being narrow, shallow and mundane.
What more proof does one need of it?

Is there reason to argue this with them?
Is it?
Unless there is an enjoyment received from abusiveness?
Is it?
Along with the name calling that has no shame.
Is this something one should miss?
Is it?

Is something with the others who insanely accept,
In a gleeful derangement set in mindsets to exchange...
That addicting?
Is it?

So much so it can not be forgotten and left to leave,
To rot.
What is the need to feel attached to that?
Why can't these afflictions if not wanted...
Can not be dropped and stopped?

What is it with 'this' that is so hypnotic?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Short Shrift

‘I’ve failed! ’ How many times have sons
And fathers’ fathers echoed me?
‘I’ve failed! My life was spent in dreams, ’
We said, ‘in shallow misery.
In dreams and steel and soot and grime,
In screams, and what would seem some crime
Of trying to live beyond our need...
Our lives were spent in some black creed! ’

‘Too short, too short, the days we spent
In trying to right the days before,
Too long, too long, the years we struggled
Knowing not what struggled for.
What goal, what aim, what discontent,
What loves we lost, what life we spent
In wondering what such life could be?
Short shrift for you - harsh words for me! ’

‘I’ve failed, my sons, I’ve failed you all
And so my failure tortures me,
As in that innocence divine
Your love loves all the failed in me.
If I could strip this flesh, or tear
These eyes that cried hot fire for you
To save you from the same despair
My father’s father brought me to...’

20 July 1976

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Résumé Of Deeds To Be Acknowledged

There are many who wear their affectations,
On their sleeves.
They want others to know,
How an artificial and shallow existence...
Is properly lived and communicated.

While those who could easily afford,
Their affectations with a long list of awards...
They have been presented,
With deeds done they represent.
Are the ones least likely to show,
A prestige upon them that has been bestowed.

'Why do you live the way you do?
And...
Where you do? '

Well...
I wish I can say it was from choice.
But today I will say,
I am blessed to have certain choices made...
Upon me forced.
And happily divorced I am from delusions.

What I've done, did and continue to do,
Has its place.
I am not one to carry around with me,
A résumé of deeds to be acknowledged.

'Oh.
So what about your social status,
And 'standing' in the community? '

As...
What?

'You know...
As one of those shakers and breakers,
Who make things happen.'

For who?

'Why...
You of course.'

And...
I need people like that around me?
To do...
What?
Inspire what I've done?
What I did?
Or what I do?
To motivate a promoting of...
What?
An agenda?
Who's?
It couldn't be mine.
My agenda long ago had been prioritized.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Walls

Before you stands to great big walls.
One is shame and one is guilt.
And these two walls that you hide behind.
These are the two walls that you've built.

I know of this, these last few days.
The time I did reflect.
Another wall it was called my pride.
And it's what I would protect.

Fight tooth and nail, lay my life down.
For whose life just did I fight?
For the people I hurt by my misdeeds?
Of course not, I was right.

'They deserved it all' I truly thought.
As I masked my inner pain.
'I did was was right' my pride replied.
And then the payback came.

It didn't feel so comfortable.
When I got back what I dished.
If pain is what you serve your friends.
Then it's for pain that you wish.

Do onto others as you do yourself.
It's what our savior taught.
You handed them what they deserved.
And deserved just what you got.

The painful truth I call it now.
When you live a life of lies.
So love your brothers and sisters here.
See through your Father's eyes.

Then never again do you have to live.
The life that you once lead.
The Father says He'll find the lost.
And raise them from the dead.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad

A faithless shepherd courted me,
He stole away my liberty.
When my poor heart was strange to men,
He came and smiled and stole it then.

When my apron would hang low,
Me he sought through frost and snow.
When it puckered up with shame,
And I sought him, he never came.

When summer brought no fears to fright,
He came to guard me every night.
When winter nights did darkly prove,
None came to guard me or to love.

I wish, I wish, but all in vain,
I wish I was a maid again.
A maid again I cannot be,
O when will green grass cover me?

poem by John Clare
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For An Anger That Comes to Visit

Most of them have no discipline at all.
Nor have they had a patriotic thought.
Not within those of shallow conciousness.
Or expressed a patriotic deed...
Disconnected from materialistic needs.
Their mouths have been open to be fed.
And they have only known to feed their greed.

So it should come as no surprise,
They do not understand...
The bitterness that lies,
Under the surface of someone...
Who finds it difficult to close their eyes,
And can not forget losing a love one
To war, pain or suffering.
Or a day they awaken with those feelings met.
Or participate in needless conflicts.
Ones long gone...
But their minds can not forget.

And to endure these constant images...
Coming when they please,
To haunt.
While watching others sit back...
Undaunted as they flaunt their trivial existences.
And not have a care connected to this,
At all!
Yes...
I can say,
I've lived through it.
That's why I can be appalled,
Without a need to apologize to anyone...
For an anger that comes to visit!
And dedicated to my memories.

Yes...
I can say,
I've lived through it.
Sometimes in masquerade.
And doing that quite well.
Praying...
As I thank God everyday,
I have no traits of Godzilla!
Or any other destructive being,
Real or imagined...
To chase away those in fear screaming,
From something horrific that they've seen.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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