With A Looking Back
It took fifty years for them to face,
An increasing blight they put in place.
With a concentration centered,
On an infighting sighted more embraced.
Eaten as served on exquisite plates.
And delivered to those with name dropping status.
And overnight the infighting once tasting great.
With an appetite deemed a reason to celebrate.
And so appropriate for those feeding on this as a diet.
Is now witnessed as sickness for them that began.
But limited were complaints to minimize among diners.
Since the presentation impressed and found divine.
Now there are those who ignited a stirring of division,
With a making of attempts to erase their tracks.
The ones that lead them to a deadend they began.
With a looking back!
To proclaim others are to blame for their heightend disgust,
For not bringing a meal that appealed to all that led them to lust.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Was Never Intended
It was never intended,
For communities to build fences...
To seclude and isolate themselves.
But to a very few,
This has become a benefit...
To witness the infighting and conflicts.
As if delighted in the condoning of struggle and strife!
However...
This witnessed benefit,
Has become a saddened sickness...
That has afflicted the doers of this,
With a price ultimately they will pay.
A strength in unity was not perceived...
Even for themselves.
Not in this way that dismays.
It was never intended,
For communities to build fences...
To seclude and isolate themselves.
But to a very few,
This has become a benefit...
To witness the infighting and conflicts.
And...
The experience of remorse that decays,
Those days of brightness greed betrayed...
To lead one astray to seek a feeding,
Of another hunger one now wonders...
Could have been much more fulfilling!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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First Nibbled to Munch
There is more!
Much much more,
Of this to come.
More than you may welcome.
More to deliver...
Than the total sum,
Of those who bring none!
And when you wish it to be done...
More of this awaits.
Either satisfy or deny your appetities.
Pile this upon your mental plates!
Some of it will be spicey to taste...
Leaving not a dropp of it to resist.
Or disappear with the infighting...
Over who gets the last crumb!
There is more!
Much much more,
Of this to come.
More of this is in the oven.
Prepared to dish...
For those who chanced,
To feast and sit!
Digesting it and not thinking at all...
Why they are not getting sick of it!
And the chef delights,
Observing what is being served...
First nibbled to munch,
To addict those who lick!
Those who sat,
Receiving in disbelief.
As each morsel of this is eaten...
And devoured undisturbed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Led Them In?
Nobody knows,
How their failures began.
Although everyone is in agreement...
Someone with insight,
To enighten them is needed!
One who is capable,
With abilities to free them from a cesspool.
But...
Who led them in?
Who amongst them,
Had been that convincing.
To lead them like sheep...
Grouped as a herd of fools!
Who hypnotized them...
To accept desperation.
And loss of a quality of life...
In need of a sacrifice,
To experience an end result...
That would bring an excitement,
With a festive mood that delights.
Who led them on?
Who amongst them,
Had been that convincing.
Now discovered totally wrong.
With a quality of life...
That has them infighting.
In divisions discussing...
The disgust of racial strife.
Fed like sugar to boost their appetites!
With more of this to spread...
As if the feeding of it is alright!
Who led them in?
Who amongst them,
Had been that convincing.
That a cesspool would be envied.
And the joy of it would uplift!
These folks are drugged and deluded,
On addicting lies some insist...
A continuance and need for it!
With claims someone with experience...
Is preferred to keep them dense,
And blanketed in darkness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seeking To Avenge Themselves
Digging deep are many seeking,
To avenge themselves...
And others wronging judged.
Today's conflicts,
Have more to do with infighting.
Than any addmission,
About reported threats coming...
From concentrationplace upon terrorists.
And those behind it defend themselves,
With senseless verbal attacks...
Heard from within their sacred domain,
Than directed from outside from someone else.
Digging deep are many seeking,
To avenge themselves...
And others wronging judged.
However...
The ones making these attempts,
Are the very people...
Who began agitating with accusations,
That the ones they wish now to protect...
Were the ones to slander as mavericks and pests.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exiting the Infighting
When opposition begins to arise,
Against those facts to be believed?
The best advice to minimize doubters...
Is to remove them from sight.
By exiting the infighting,
And leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thigh Way (Song Parody of 'My Way')
to the tune of 'MY Way'
And now, my weigh-ins near
and my poor scale faces destruction
I've cheated, had some LITE beers
then gotten quotes for liposuction
I've eaten way past full
and then had one more for the highway
I've gotten old, I've gotten fat
don't diet my way!
Bagettes, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention
I love my salty snacks
but that's what gave me hypertension
I planned each 3 course meal
at greasy spoons along the highway
Ive gotten old
I've gotten fat
don't diet my way
Yes there were times when I was blue
Ice cream in quarts, I would go through
but through it all, despite the gout
I'd eat it in, or take it out
I ate it all, - and I'm not tall
don't diet my way
I've lunched, I've wined and dined
I've had my failed attempts at losing
but now my jeans just split
and it no longer seems amusing.
To think I ate it all
and may I say not in a shy way
I've gotten old, I've gotten fat
don't diet my way
For what is a meal without cake for desert
and JOGGING IS DANGEROUS - a guy could get hurt
I ate the foods I truly craved
and never once was fashion's slave
The weight-in shows, I need new clothes
don't diet my way!
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Strange Sickness.
You are the reason for my illness,
You are the remedy for my sickness,
The strange sickness attacks me,
By increasing my heart's rhythm,
Giddiness in the head,
Palpitation at the chest,
Loss of appetite and
Scores of other symptoms,
Feeling quite hot when you are far,
Feeling strange when you are near,
All people seem to be happy and smile,
When you hold my hands,
Everyone seem to be sad and cry,
When you go away from me,
What sickness is this so strange,
That is induced by you?
What sickness is this so unique,
That is cleared by you?
You are the reason for me to be awkward,
Giggle at my mother when she scolds,
You are the reason for me to be childish,
When my father checks my progress,
You are the reason for me to flunk,
Two three subjects all of a sudden,
I am not ashamed of that failure, my love,
As long as you are the cause,
And the remedy for my sickness..
Something in you causes this!
Something in you clears this!
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Chosen To Do Nothing Else
They are a people who believe,
Division and infighting is a healthy process.
They are a people who believe,
Creating enemies and beginning wars...
Has a benefit to their kept self interests.
They are a people who believe,
They can and will do exactly as they please...
To leave mountains of debris behind them,
And blame the effectiveness of cleaning up...
On others whose lives they feel,
They are entitled to ruin.
Because they are a people,
Who seek ways to self destruct!
With beliefs they are chosen to do nothing else,
But deceive and corrupt!
And the evidence is obvious enough to see.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As The Night Draws In
The night drew in, the moon lowered hiding from the world
Passion consumed with the lust of love
A night of power and joy
Pleasure and relief
Sensitive music and scented candles to set a mood
New sheets soon to be dirtied and defiled as pleasure consumes the conscious mind
Lips met one time, then twice and then more often as the night moved on
Heat of lust becoming apparent as the sweat started to flow
The act of sex upon them now
Who will take the lead?
Who will dominate and who will follow?
They knew soon enough as one of them proceeded to get on all fours
But before the act began a kiss short on sweet from his lips to his
The pleasure began, intense it began to come
Stereotypes and worries replaced by pleasure and lust
They're conscious minds giving away control
Time drew on and pleasure intensified
A climax was near
One man's love for another
The others lust for the man
The act of love and lust was almost over
The Climax had been delivered and enjoyed by both men
Upon they're dirty sheets they lay
Exhausted but happy of their night of joy
In love now they sleep
Ready soon for their next night of lust.
poem by Daniel Laurence
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Speed of a Crisis
Repeated and historic has been...
The finger pointing done to accuse another one,
For a self inflicted suffering...
That comes to them without end.
Insecurities unconfessed,
Now has them forced to address...
An idealistic way of life,
That sets the spotlight upon
Such a disturbing mess.
Yes!
Truth like this is difficult to erase.
When greed has been one's feeding.
And greasy fat hands appear...
With mud smeared on one's deceiving face.
Of course the blame for this will be placed on someone else.
That's the way these steps of greatness have been achieved.
Leaving victims dishonored and disenfranchised as they bleed.
And the speeding of a crisis begins to leap over false devices.
As those try to hide their absolute disgrace...
Realizing the basis of their taste,
Began with the seeding of petty issues...
And spiced with the baiting of race.
Now an incompetence has stirred the heating of disaster!
With a churning of internal division...
That can not be stopped.
Even as their demise is taking place!
With a trashing done that they have mastered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Guess What?
Guess what?
When I discovered,
I could appreciate my own happiness.
Without feeling the guilt of being selfish,
Or self centered.
I began to do it with more consistency.
I was one who believed,
Doing for others came first.
To bust my butt for my brother!
Be dutiful and strong for my sister.
And so on and so forth.
You know...
That me for you,
You for me BS.
I am 62 years old.
And that kind of human spirit...
I have witnessed used infrequently.
And I can't be the only one...
Subjected to live in the valley of leeches.
Some folks are blessed to give with that sacrifice.
And this too I have learned...
You can not do enough for other people.
They will squeeze you dry of every emotion you have.
And then complain to anyone who listens...
About how 'you' think you are better than everyone else.
Guess what?
When I discovered,
I could appreciate my own happiness.
Without feeling the guilt of being selfish,
Or self centered.
I began to do it with more consistency.
And left those to say what they will,
Alone.
Because they will.
Whether they are alone or not!
Guess what?
I've also learned I can spend wonderful times,
Away from miserable people!
And I'm not saying 'all' are miserable.
Just the ones I enjoy being away from!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Feeding The Monsters
A shift in blame is in full force.
And those responsible,
For creating division...
Are, of course,
Trying to divorce themselves...
From their initiations.
Their hate speeches,
Over the media that reaches...
Has them in denial,
Their instigations with rage...
Began to cloud the Sunrays with haze.
A shift in blame is in full force.
And those responsible,
For creating division...
Are, of course,
Trying to divorce themselves...
From their initiations.
But listen to them,
On any radio or TV station...
That employes their venom.
And you will hear them jeer,
With talk that promotes anguish and fear.
And it becomes clear!
These highly paid jocks...
Are feeding the monsters,
Nonstop slop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Always there
Before the Daystar was in position
and the planets began their round
Or the galaxies were called into being
and a single star was found.
There standing at the threshold of 'The beginning',
preceding time and space.
You said 'Let there be' and the vast universe
nestled neatly into place.
Light burst forth commencing a great journey,
shining its' illuminating ray
and thus began the glorious dawning
of the very first created day.
Many years have passed and gone since that first day
with its pristine light did shine
including times when in the garden Adam
walked and talked with God Divine.
But sin through disobedience brought
separation between God and man
and God through grace began to implement
His wonderful salvation plan.
To walk with men on earth and to climb
that Calvary hill and there to die
To save us from the penalty of our sin
and the law to satisfy.
You have always been there,
throughout the history of the human race
and Lord, You will always be there,
when the new heaven and earth takes its place.
When this old creation has passed away
and the new Jerusalem appears
and the multitude of redeemed sing your praises
through the eternal years.
The Woman of My Dreams
I know my complexion is sallow
and goose bumps are on my skin,
but the reason that I’m shivering
is the poor state of health I’m in.
It is with this tormented heart
and deep sorrow upon my face
that misery has come full circle
back to this dark depressive place.
My life began with nothing but hardship,
but fortune came from my hands.
I began as an apprentice to a Master Painter
and became famous throughout the lands.
My fame introduced me to a countess,
the most beautiful women of my dreams.
We married in Paris on a spring morning,
and all was perfect or so it seemed.
For the first three years she had lied to me:
when I found out I couldn’t believe the lie.
The woman of my dreams is in fact a ghost
and now she waits for me to die.
poem by Orlando Belo
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In The First Place
I don't know why
You came back in my life
Or why we said goodbye
In the first place
In your eyes
(In your eyes)
I see where we have been
(Where we've been)
And what could be again
If we can erase the lies
And the tears that we both cried
Make me feel alive again
Take me back where we began
In the first place
Maybe
Maybe it's all wrong
But you never should have gone
In the first place
Without you here
I always wanted more
Like what we had before
In the first place
And now we know
(Now we know)
It wasn't all a dream
(All a dream)
You're still a part of me
When hello became goodbye
To a love that never died
Make me feel alive again
Take me back where we began
In the first place
Maybe
(Maybe
song performed by by Hoku from Hoku
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skipping Around Obstacles
It would be great if experience to one came,
Without the sacrificing of time...
To find fault or place blame.
Or the process of feeling some anguish and pain.
Wouldn't it be nice,
If it came with the throwing of dice?
And those wishing to have it,
Could barter for it in exchange.
Leaving complaints at a minimum.
With a bargain felt that had been obtained.
It would be delicious and lip licking good,
If the price of it could afford everyone's taste.
And no one would feel deprived of it,
No matter the neighborhood.
It would be great if experience to one came...
Overnight feeding everyone's appetite.
And those who make claims,
They have awakened with knowledge...
Would express more insight,
With eyes clear and bright!
But experience is what it is.
And it can not be taught to achieve.
'Excuse me professor,
Is it possible we can discuss that topic,
One more time?
Please? '
The one who acquires experience...
Isn't the one with a heart worn on a sleeve.
But has lived and learned from mistakes that were made.
And did not make excuses heard,
While gathering up the energy to again stand...
With no mention of having crawled on knees.
Experience does not come gift wrapped in a nice package.
Or skipping around obstacles,
To place that responsibility on someone else's back.
Experience doesn't come to be done like that!
'I am so glad I had that experience.
No one will ever know...
What it was like to see you,
Struggle as you carried my weight.
I so appreicate you giving me that experience.
WHEW!
Let me know when you are ready for more.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Recycled Recessiveness
Making attempts,
To revive that which is clearly nonexisting.
And has past its usefulness...
Is sad to witness.
Although this can be observed to be done!
There are those who still insist upon,
Their usage of depictions of stereotypical images.
With moking jokes of poked out lips.
Stretched rolling eyes.
And slow dragging steps taken,
Like a Step n' Fetchit.
And those wishing to turn back the clock...
To relive these times,
Are those who have been suppressed the most.
But there is something of value for them,
In being subservient
They find...
That keeps them wishing to perfect,
These teased images in their minds.
It is an art they have long established,
As a cause to unite behind...
The disgraceful declining...
Some of their own kind now denounce,
As a means to uphold their begging!
And the infighting keeps them...
In a recycled recessiveness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Releasing Myself From Those Irritations
The music is wonderful.
I think it is really great.
The messages delivered,
I've heard...
When they are given,
Have power and inspiration.
And all of them I've come to digest.
With an understanding I've adopted.
With a renewed outlook I now appreciate.
But it's the infighting and miscommunication...
With all the gossip that takes place.
The conflicts exisiting there I am confronted with...
Makes me feel my peace of mind is threatened.
And I'd rather not bother with it.
I'd rather not participate or congregate,
Around others who express their indifferences.
With wagging tongues whispered,
Sharing an overheard hate!
Something is wrong within the minds of the people,
Who say one thing but really are two faced.
'I can understand your point of view.
At times I have felt that same way too!
But why don't you reconsidered your decision.
Come back and make the return your experience!
God wishes you to fellowship with us...
In the House of the Lord!
That is what church is for! '
That's what I know.
And the reasons I've given is why I don't go!
But I do appreciate your invitation.
I've protected my peace,
By releasing myself from those irritations!
'So you are 'not' a Christian?
Is that what you are saying? '
I'm praying to stay where my mind is at.
And for 'me' there is no hesitation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Itteh Bitteh Kitteh Comittee
I used to sit on that side
With people I could trust
I was pretty much contented
But things were to readjust
Upon entering a new situation
Things might stay the same
But, alas they crumbled
To not be the same again
For a while it persevered
But things began to change
I tried to bring it back
But that was slight derange
I stuck with it for a bit
I had nothing to fall back on
But the broken, was indisputable
Like the Gospel according to John
Content changed to depression
Depression to a Suicidal thought
After several failed attempts at that
My heart began to rot
After a period of isolation
Something turned around
I couldn’t help but notice
That thing that I found
That had an affect on me
But I didn’t really know
How that it would help me
Through the high and all that low
Good moments started to multiply
With more and more and more
It took some getting used to
But my complacency began to soar
And now I sit on this side
And look back on that side with pity
Because I know it’s superficial
Not like the: itteh bitteh kitteh comittee
poem by Aoife Semple
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