With A Microphone To Moan Into
The more attention they are given,
With a microphone to moan into...
To declare in announcement of their wounds.
Would lead anyone to think when observing this act,
That the ones who are speaking...
Were blinded and forced with others to become attached,
To inflict themselves repeatedly...
Without being aware of it.
And they whine publicly that no one cared enough,
To try to stop them from this doing.
Like children blaming their parents,
For the wrongs they choose to do.
And...
For being the reason why their lives have become miserable.
To leave themselves freed of any accountability.
Or responsible for the doing of their own misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Whinin' Boy Moan
Van Morrison
Exile Publishing Ltd / Universal Music Publishing Ltd
Drop that coin right into the slot
Get it whether you're ready or not
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well they call him Mr. Jellyroll
It's just the way he rolls his dough
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else
Whine, whine, whine, whine
All the winos down on Market Street
Roll on over to old North Beach
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Well he gonna sing and play for you
Exactly what he's s'pposed to do
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Whine, whine, whine
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Let the whinin boy moan
If you don't know how to do it yourself
Cos he can do it better, better than anyone else
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gift of Deception
The only way they have ever achieved success...
Is by blaming someone else for their failures.
And when it has been proven they are incompetent...
They whine about the ease of someone else's chores.
And now when it is clear they are the reason for their sorrows...
They choose to say they should not be faulted for making bad choices.
Although thousands of lives have been lost,
At the expense of tremendous heartbreak but not felt at their cost.
All as a result of their gift of deception and continous misdeeds!
And now they pay the price to bleed but seek someone else's blood!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Choose To Heal
I've decided not to be reminded of my griefs.
I've learned that carrying a baggage of sorrows,
Only weighs on my back...
Unhappiness to be left to be repeatedly monitored.
Tears cried as others measured my pain,
On a scale from one to ten...
Are days I've chosen not to live.
Again!
And again.
AND...again without end.
Why should I celebrate my agony,
On a regular basis?
What does doing this for me achieve?
A hatred and bitterness I pray from me will leave?
Or a constant search to seek validation,
How miserable my life lived can be?
NO!
For others that may be so,
To acknowledge without a letting go.
But for me...
My happiness comes with the knowing,
I can forgive.
Not forgot!
My mind wont let me do it.
But make attempts to forgive I can do.
I've decided not to be reminded of my griefs.
I've learned that carrying a baggage of sorrows,
Only weighs on my back...
Unhappiness to be left to be repeatedly monitored.
I choose not to keep my healing wounds,
Left to pick to bleed repeatedly in anger.
I choose with faith,
That God will handle my business.
I choose with faith,
God has my back.
And will correct all that has gone wrong,
To make right for my life.
I choose with faith,
That God will handle my business.
I choose to heal,
Not to relive moments of my agonies.
I already know what it takes to moan.
I already know that process.
I've renewed my commitment to living.
And give my deepest respect,
To those who had experienced...
Untimely deaths.
I've decided not to be reminded of my griefs.
I've learned that carrying a baggage of sorrows,
Only weighs on my back...
Unhappiness to be left to be repeatedly monitored.
I choose not to keep my healing wounds,
Left to pick to bleed repeatedly in anger.
I choose to heal.
Not to be left,
For the rest of my life dropping tears wept.
To spend in the process of mourning.
Riding high on the shoulders of grief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Conviction With Such Commitment
Did you think I was a figment,
Of your imagination?
Something generic
You can treat as you please.
Something you were taught,
Was beneath your high ideals?
Humor me.
Well
It is no secret by now,
We both have been made aware
Who achieves incompetence
And who denies accountability
With accusations of not being responsible,
For any implementation of wrongdoing
Do you use olive or vegetable oil,
In your skillet?
Or
Is it 'Teflon'?
I have never been allowed that close,
To anyone declaring themselves
With that kind of authority
Enabling them to slip and slither
You have been the name dropper
And we both can agree upon,
How insecurity can devastate
One's self perception
Also,
As a reminder
The definition of greatness as applied to myth,
Is just another application of word usage
To hype one's state of mind at the time of use
You care to impress me,
With your announcement of it again?
I enjoy observing your conviction with such commitment
It gives me goosebumps
Say it again!
Tell me how great you are
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pitstop
In my pain remaining,
You still dropp more of it.
As if I occupy a pitstop.
And I am there...
To replenish your need,
To gas up...
As you retire your worn out displeasures,
To rebuckle for a rebooting...
For a race you keep,
To speed away to leave me broken.
I pray for you!
To Stop this dance you do with evil.
But emotionally you wish me drained.
So no one else can see,
Who re-energizes you...
After you are through abusing me.
But one day you will come not to feel this way.
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
Behind closed doors,
You will begin to feel trapped.
By a consciousness that visits.
And your past misdeeds will plead to be forgiven.
But...
From whom or what,
Will release you from those pitstops,
That left me strickened as you struck...
With a letting go for a public showing.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
In my pain remaining,
You would dropp more of it.
As if I occupied a pitstop.
And I was there...
To replenish your need,
To gas up...
As you retired your worn out displeasures.
To rebuckle for a rebooting...
For a race you kept,
To speed away to leave me broken.
One day you will come not to feel this way.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
And it will be your misdeeds.
Not me to haunt you.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I See This Negligence In Children's Eyes
'Where is 'my' beginning? '
I see this negligence in children's eyes.
I see their intelligent minds ignored,
By unfocused parents...
Who believe raising their children,
Is a chore assigned.
And not blessed by The Divine,
By design and...
Who art in heaven.
'Where is 'my' beginning?
To receive the attention I am not getting.'
And I don't wonder why,
When these children grow denied...
They despise their parents!
Or 'whoever' raises this sense of hate,
Created within their minds to find and ignite.
As if to spite their births.
When I recognize what is in those eyes,
From my own experience I use to choose to deny...
I deliberately make eye contact with these children,
Who 'know'...
When someone else perceives their feelings,
And this shows.
To leave them with a quick smile.
And that attention given!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet III: If So It Hap
If so it hap this offspring of my care,
These fatal Anthems, sad and mournful Songs,
Come to their view, who like afflicted are;
Let them yet sigh their own, and moan my wrongs.
But untouch'd hearts, with unaffected eye,
Approach not to behold so great distress:
Clear-sighted you, soon note what is awry,
Whilst blinded ones mine errors never guess.
You blinded souls whom youth and errors lead,
You outcast Eaglets, dazzled with your sun:
Ah you, and none but you my sorrows read;
You best can judge the wrongs that she hath done.
That she hath done, the motive of my pain,
Who, whilst I love, doth kill me with disdain.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Let Them Groan In a Free Moan Zone
Let them groan in a free moan zone to do it!
Disputing this with resistance...
Will only satisfy their cries and sighs.
They seek to blame another,
For their blunders initiated undercover.
And wish to dump this as their custom.
As has been done to keep folks stunned.
Let them groan in a free moan zone!
If you don't,
They'll see to it...
This will not be done alone.
Pamper them like the children they are.
The children who play and inflict their own scars.
Let them bleed without a rescue heeding.
And destroy themselves by their own annoyance...
With the sight of their own imperfections seething.
Perhaps then they will get the point!
Their own madness created has left them disjointed!
And leave them alone...
In a free moan zone to do it.
If you don't,
The haunting they'll pursue will last forever.
With 'someone' to depict as their enemy!
And 'this' has been their expertise.
Leave them alone...
In their own free moan zone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No One Can Be Freed Completely
Shifting seasons one lives,
Present with them maladies.
Not often pleasant...
But come to inflict
To sit before they leave.
No one believes,
That a path
Carefully taken,
Has obstacles.
Adopted doubts,
And nonsense philosophies.
Can trap to bite,
Without a peaceful night of sleep.
Some may perceive,
They can breathe...
Free of obstacles.
No cake is baked,
Prepared with trim and icing made.
For taste to sample.
To be 'thee' example!
Wasting one's time,
Making up one's indecisive mind...
May find no satisfaction,
To avoid a reaction!
Shifting seasons one lives,
Present with them maladies.
Not often pleasant...
But come to inflict,
To sit before they leave.
No one can live freed,
Completely...
Of these obstacles!
No one can be freed completely,
Of these obstacles!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into Themselves
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
It becomes increasingly difficult,
To support and defend...
Those like them.
They are not molded with backbone,
Another could depend.
Fence sitters undecided,
With a self esteem dismissed.
Often are destructive to progress...
With a delaying of it.
And direct they are not.
Deceivers they tend to be.
With a seeking of attention...
To stop a process intended,
That will expose their activity...
Lacking in accountability!
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
Or the need they have to embellish,
From the shadows where they hide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sitting Seeking Pity
Never will these wounds known that I carry,
Affect you directly.
When I earned my scars you were not involved.
Not to see them inflicted when I enlisted,
Into the military.
Not to hear of my friends being killed and buried.
Or the toil that took on my emotions.
I've already done the numbing of the mind thing.
You were not there,
To see me grieve over the death of my son.
Or the pain I felt blaming myself and everyone,
Regarding how that was done.
Or when both of my marriages ended!
And I was then still quite young.
All you know is what you see.
You have no idea what is inside of me.
Or the devotion I still have for my family.
After years now spent not seeing my mom and dad.
Very close those feelings you will not believe.
Or seeing them die that has left me sad.
Nothing I do has been magically produced.
Even forgiving myself and others,
Has reduced me to tears at times.
When I know of those folks who have sacrificed their lives,
For their beliefs.
As you wallow away in pettiness...
To complain about your issues.
And how from you they wont leave!
While you invite them on a daily basis.
And you say of me for you I show no empathy?
You have no idea how much I care!
I am just not like you.
Sitting seeking pity.
Because my cries for help,
Is all I choose to do!
My knees are not intended,
To be bended and kept knelt!
Never will these wounds known that I carry,
Affect you directly.
I am too aware of those steps I've taken.
I am too aware of what it takes to celebrate life.
And too much aware of a happiness,
I have chosen to separate from what has happened.
Pulled out of despair and dragged away from strife.
I will listen!
But I am not here to compare to share to relive.
Any of your agonies on your sleeve you so willfully give.
I am here to assist your getting over it.
Not to sit with you and feast upon defeat.
I am not that kind of 'friend'.
And those friends you do not need.
So stop rehearsing your tragedies.
Let's take a hike through the park,
And hug a few trees.
Let's express to them our gratitude.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bwtween two
forced to choose between the two,
forced to choose between honesty and dispair,
forced to choose between beauty and destruction,
forced to choose between life and death,
forced to choose between 3 years and 5 years,
forced to choose between who i am friends with,
and still with the choice of both i loose one.
poem by Matthew Boisjolie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Creates These Images?
Greed and excess,
Has produced less profits...
And success.
So those responsible,
For feeding this nonsense...
Seek to do their business,
On foreign shores.
So through exits...
Those feeding selfish needs,
With a seeking to stay afloat...
Had to go!
Leaving those excessively greedy,
Protesting about their rights...
To receive without limits.
And spoiled with the notion they are entitled.
And born to do as they wish and as they like...
For the rest of their lives.
'THAT's NOT TRUE! '
Yells the voice of reason and reality!
'WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO PAY ATTENTION TO ME? '
When the last of the pennies are taken from the piggy bank...
Why do people then get upset about pigs?
Who creates these images?
Maybe that is the reason for the lack of accountability!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ensuring They Stay In Place
I've learned not to accept,
But return all disagreeable attitudes.
Those tossing about any mood they choose...
May have found that comfortable to do,
When they were children.
But as an adult we should have rules,
We adhere to and follow.
Ensuring they stay in place.
It saves from being regarded a phony.
Or called a two face.
No one gets that close,
I have to publicly disrespect.
Nor do I do my best to get other people,
To choose me over someone else...
As if there's been an announcement made,
Of a popularity contest.
I do not think it necessary,
To lie behind a friend's back. BUT...what 'friend' does that?
And that's probably why I have few of them...
Since deceit and distrust is not where my mind is at.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why Those Battles Between Them Persist Without End
I am not one to analyze or bring to judgement,
The misdeeds done by those now dead.
Or correct with facts those deceits done,
To shed bright light upon that which has been said.
There is nothing in it for me,
To declare a victory.
However,
I am one to speak from my own experiences...
About those implications that were fed to devastate.
And reason and causes of those effects,
That have left divisions needing mending...
From an implementing by those dead,
To have those they disliked...
Tossing without sleep in their beds at night.
A healing from wrongs to make them right,
Has to take place to stop needless fights.
And what is there to gain to maintain conflicts?
By the ones living unable to comprehend...
Why those battles between them persist without end.
I am not one to analyze or bring to judgement,
The misdeeds done by those now dead.
Or correct with facts those deceits done,
To shed bright light upon that which has been said.
There is nothing in it for me,
To declare a victory.
'Why are you fighting?
And what purpose does it serve? '
~Because it's...
Because it is a,
Well...
Because! ~
And there is absolutely nothing in it for you,
To continue blindly doing those things you do...
Because of tradition?
What is your definition of that tradition?
And those living to defend it?
Why can't you respond for a meaning of it to mention.
Or know where to begin.
Since many traditions held today...
Have proven to make little if any sense!
To declare what is your tradition?
To maintain one's right to remain ignorant?
'Lower your weapons.
I'm just asking you a question.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calculated With 'Come-Hither' Stares
Aligning and finding the mind is attached,
To that Great One who knows...
All that we sow and reap to adapt,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But...
We do because it is what 'we' choose.
Believing our shoulders are for this to be used.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!
Learn to remove those unconscious traps.
Calculated with 'come-hither' stares,
Alluring to seduce with temptations to induce...
Senses of despair to bear,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But do because it is what 'we' choose.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!
Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware.
Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis
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Insensitive, Cold And Indifferent
I have my insecurities.
And I am glad to have been younger,
To had been made forced to deal with them...
Publicly.
With the knocking down of walls.
And the building of defenses of pretense.
And as I age,
I've been given the ability...
To look through those constructed fences.
Some hide behind to convince others...
They are in need of being shielded from becoming,
Offended by those who live lives using common sense.
Interpreted by them to be insensitive, cold and indifferent.
Categories most children would assign as they malign,
Their strict and no nonsense taking parents.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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Found In Our Treasured Constitution
Oh...
Today those enraged,
Have become engaged...
With those displaying their outrage.
As they publicly defend their craze.
With excuses made,
About their accepted way of life.
One that incenses the activation of division...
That spreads like a cancer,
To have no ending in sight.
Although they are responsible for conflicts incited,
Like children they are...
Denying they've started any fights.
And yet those who are observing the initiation of all of this...
Do not wish to admit,
They've been influenced by those given microphones...
To air their 'beefs',
That victimizes those innocent.
Oh...
Today those enraged,
Have become engaged...
With those displaying their outrage.
As they publicly defend their craze.
'We have the right to defend,
Any unrest that we begin.
And 'that' can be found in our treasured constitution.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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