Without A Drumroll Or A Cheering Audience
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
After I had graduated from elementary school,
I had already received my 'bachelor's'.
I was taught to be accountable,
For every responsible action I made.
I did not have a childhood.
I had chores and responsibilities.
And had been a latchkey child by the age of 5.
That was before the innocence of children,
Were identified to be protected and realized.
I was taught to value independence....first!
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
Married, divorced and a military veteran...
I knew my life had excelled through a course,
To experience early such maturity.
And that wasn't a choice!
But more like a marriage of enforcement.
And my tolerance for those who are ignorant is low.
Extremely!
Especially when I've seen people pull themselves up,
Out of places few would dare to go.
Without a drumroll or a cheering audience to encourage.
With so many today wasting their minds and time,
Debating their entitlements while sitting on wide behinds...
Expecting a delivery of some kind they did not earn.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Too Much In-The-Love
A position of proposition kept.
Researched...
With a common sense,
Not academic!
I am not someone to invite to test.
But I've never met an obstacle...
That has of yet,
Made me unhappy because we've met.
'Cause I'm...
Too much in-the-love!
Yes,
I'm...
Just too basic.
I studied all the books in school.
And as a rule I found this true...
I am,
Too much in-the-love!
Yes!
And...
Just too basic.
My Masters and my Doctorate,
I got early in life.
And the military taught me...
To be,
Decisive!
A position of proposition kept.
Researched...
With a common sense,
Not academic!
'Cause I'm...
Too much in-the-love!
Yes,
In-the-LOVE!
And...
Just 'too' basic.
My 'degree' is in my 'own' history!
And my proposition spoken,
Is in my position...
Stated!
Too much in-the-love!
Yes,
In-the-LOVE!
And...
I'm Just TOO basic.
My Masters and my Doctorate,
I got early in life.
And the military taught me...
To be,
Decisive!
And today I'm delighted.
'Cause I'm...
Just too much,
In-the-LOVE!
Yes,
In-the-LOVE!
And...
Just too basic.
'Cause I'm...
Just 'too' much,
In-the-LOVE!
Yes,
In-the-LOVE!
And...
Just TOO basic.
So basic I am wide eyed.
And I'm...
Just 'too' much in-the-love.
Yes,
In-the-LOVE!
And...
Just TOO basic.
And earned to keep!
Yes I'm too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Just too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Yes too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Just too much.
Yes I'm too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Just too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Yes too much,
In-the-LOVE.
Just TOO much.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your child your pride, Your grandchild your guide
True
Our children are our pride
They give you
Immense pleasure
With their glowing innocence
And
Such newly discovered expressions
Which you have not experienced earlier
Their growth
Is always showering on you
A sense of satisfaction
Their intelligence
Is always rated by you
To be much higher than
What you possesed in your childhood
Their observations are
Special to you
And you waste not time
In executing corrective or preventive actions
To satisfy their needs
And you do that all with great pleasure
There comes a gap
As they mature
And you are relieved to see
A new childhood again
When your grandchild comes in your life
You see a still higher degree
Of innocence
And intelligence in this generation
You feel your grandchild
Has much greater potential
To achieve than
Your own child, leave alone
The very your own self
As you have gained
Some more maturity
Than what you had when you reared your child
And have crossed
Hurdles with deeper troubles
Your association with the new arrival
Gives you more pleasure
Than what you had with your child
Not only that
With a renewed syllabus
In the study of life
Your grandchild looks a professor to you
Had you seen a teacher in your child
Your grandchild guides you
Through a research project
On this subject
And confers on you a doctorate
Or rejects
Based on your self searching skills
And learning abilities
Your child your pride
Your grandchild your guide
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Witch At Church After Service Meeting
I was extremely lucky
early in life at primary school
I had the misfortune of
being taught several years
in a row by an extremely
opinionated female teacher?
Her learned perception
all small boys were bad...
I was seated in a group
she never taught
never talked to
never answered
questions from...
only down spoke to
with insulting
condescending remarks.
I as example was destined
at later primary school
she enthusiastically
informed her entire class in
another rage anger fit...
was destined to be arrested
put in prison where I belonged
being of no use to society.
Years later she recognized me
at a church after service meeting
stared at me with loathing hate
obviously church was not
where I belonged in her scheme
of judgement cosmic certainties...
I pleasantly ignored her
having missed her prophecy
incarceration destination
by then I was a journeyman
accredited qualified tradesman
bonus a university degree
never was I a vindictive
child soul destroying teacher
voicing rage as she was...
I had been at primary dyslexic undiagnosed
remedial reading elementary rage taught
will not aid or remedy special needs students...
post graduate Diploma Of Teaching I studied
Students With Special Learning Needs
taught with patience empathy diverse skills heart...
poem by Terence George Craddock

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sees With A Desire Sought
Like my father.
And his father before him...
I was the eldest.
And made quick to grow.
With a teaching of life early.
And many times angry,
I had to let my childhood go.
Used to set examples.
And enforced to do chores I had to do...
Did not sit well with me at all,
As I saw other children playing games...
With a loving to do it too!
But as I grew older with skills I had been taught,
I still observe those 'children'...
Playing the same games with those teachings.
The very same games they have handed to their children...
With beliefs a maturity comes to one automatically.
Yet...
One does not achieve the meaning of responsibility,
Unless there is an influence one sees with a desire sought.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today At My Age
Today at my age...
You may call me anything you choose.
And I will still regard that as a compliment.
At this stage of the game...
To be given any attention,
I find that to be remarkable.
Who knew I would feel this way?
When I was in my early twenties...
Everyday I thought I needed to seek praise.
And today...
At my age,
An insult heard that is spoken...
And is tossed my way?
I automatically know,
Someone has taken the time to do it.
And I thank them for their efforts made.
'What are you?
Some kind of a fool? '
Apparently not just any kind,
Or you would not have taken your time...
To notice.
'Huh?
What? '
You have made my day!
You are a breath of fresh motivation.
Thank you.
'And you are...
OH,
Nevermind! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What About My Image?
But you've graduated from high school.
Why is it that you desire to go back?
'I felt safe in those days.
It was easy for me not to be accountable,
For anything.
And when I blamed someone else for something I did...
At least I could hide my deceit and was believed.
But today...
People are trying to make me responsible,
For my own actions.
And...
I have 'never' done that before!
I'm not use to having fingers pointed at me.'
Well...
You know eventually that is going to happen.
'I know.
I can't even blame 'them' for anything anymore.'
Just be prepared to fix everything you've done.
'Are you kidding?
Be responsible for my own actions?
Be accountable and admit my faults?
But...but...
What about my image? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Sent My Child To School Today
I sent my child to school today
With his little lunch box
When he came home he said his friend
Had gotten the chickenpox,
I sent my child to school today
And asked him what he learned
He told me about firemen
They taught him how not to get burned,
I sent my child to school today
He said, 'Do you know what they taught me? '
He told me they taught him numbers
As well as his ABC’s,
I sent my child to school today
A smile on his face
I gave him a kiss and a hug
And said, 'See ya funny face! ',
I sent my child to school today
His smile bright and wide
But an older child brought in a gun
How did he get it inside? ,
I sent my child to school today
As in every day
But the child with the gun started shooting
The reason? No one could say,
I buried my child after school today
All I can do is cry
I lost my child at school today
And nobody can tell me why.
poem by Doug Hollywood Davis

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thankful For A Fixed Income I Magically Manage
I did not grow up picking Lillies from the field.
I was a latchkey child with chores and responsibilities.
That's the way my mother raised my sister Mimmie and me.
To be independent and aware at a very early age.
I can sometimes be difficult, direct and demanding.
Traits others discover within minutes in my presence.
However...
When I give of myself and time,
That is done without question.
I am one of those Give-Back-To-The Community kind.
And I've learned after many years of doing it...
Not too many in the community appreciate the sacrifice.
Since I am limited with 'bling' to impress!
I've been told many times,
'Why are you here wasting your life?
You can go somewhere else with the skills you have.
And make lots of money! '
It sickens me to hear this,
From those who assess others...
By what they 'visual' possess.
They same folks that express 'unity'.
Based on conditions met!
But...
My mother didn't raise me like that!
She taught 'me' to make contributions.
Delivering to others my best.
Needless to say we had many arguments about this.
Guess who won?
The only regret I have?
Not too many were present to digest her message.
Although I am grateful and blessed,
To have listened.
And thankful for a fixed income I magically manage.
And a can opener I use without protest.
Yes...
I am skilled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When She Played It Was On Her Piano
As a kid I had ambitions.
And the first of them was to do my chores,
Before my mother would come home from work.
And she would pack them on too!
'I told you to sweep this floor.'
I did!
'With what?
A sandwich?
Do it again.'
My sister, Mimmie, would look at me.
And smile!
I couldn't wait,
To give her the spray can...
To kill the roaches!
I didn't know we weren't suppose to have them,
Until I was eight years old!
And that's not a joke.
One day when my mother went to work,
I made sure Mimmie got introduced.
She's a grandmother now.
And every once in a while...
She will mention how mean I was to her.
Nobody is going to sit,
And enjoy me getting whipped!
And that has been my philosophy...
Learned very early in my life.
Those days are long gone.
And being assigned to responsibilites,
I believe every child needs.
However...
Too many parents have raised lazy and spoiled children.
Believing one day,
They will awaken and be accountable for their actions!
Today as I reflect on my childhood,
I am glad my mother did not allow me to go to sleep...
To chance an awakening to what I knew I should do.
What I had and was going to do got done,
Before I had an opportunity to give it thought.
Procrastination,
Was not a lesson my mother taught.
I've seen parents,
Do everything possible for their children.
To wonder at a later date in time,
Why their children disrespect them.
Even 'if' I looked as if I wanted to say something back,
My mother would put a 'switch' to my behind.
AND...
I would have to fine one she liked to use on me.
That was before the calling of 911.
Today...
They would call that child abuse.
When I grew up...
We got our 'butts' tore up.
Just for looking as 'if'...
We did not enjoy getting whippings!
And I aint hardly kidding.
How does that 'old' saying go?
~Spare the rod and spoil the child.~
Well...
Mimmie and I were very spoiled.
But...
A rocking of a boat,
Did not float at all...
With Ms Edna!
When she played,
It was on her piano!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Courteous In Demeanor
I received my first lesson early.
I made my mother upset and she said,
'Do that one more time! '
Her eyes were wide and fixed.
Here lips were pressed together,
In this mix of grin and tightened smile.
I knew that 'one more time'...
I better not do!
The best training ever,
I received in the military.
And I will never forget,
Being whipped into discipline...
At the tender age of 18.
Grown...
I thought!
And missing home within 24 hours!
AND taking advanced college courses...
IN the military too!
Arrogant and as proud as ever.
I guess today you can say,
I am a bit 'Obamalistic'!
As I grow more observant,
And peaceful within myself.
I see folks who dismiss their responsibilities.
With no acceptance of accountability at all.
And I wonder how they survive...
Being blinded by their self indulgence.
Who breast fed these imbeciles?
Oh well...
I use to give that a lot of my concern.
However,
Today?
When it comes to my peace of mind...
And quickly leaving foolishness behind?
I believe in exercise.
Yes!
And I do it everyday.
I know 'when' and 'how' to apply my moves.
With the utmost dignity...
That is courteous in demeanor.
First!
Then I quickly split from the BS!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who Keep What I Feel Felt Real
As described by those who are now mired,
In dire straits.
I am sure the pain felt is real.
I felt the same way about my own.
And when I healed,
With the understanding how that was done...
Those now with long faces,
Were nowhere to be traced.
Most of them were racing...
From mall to mall.
With shopping as the agenda.
And with those expressed feelings,
From a few to show me I was still someone...
In their hearts and minds.
I realized this...
They are the kinds of people in my life I prioritize.
They are the kinds of people in my life,
Who keep what I feel felt real and me alive inside.
At the top of my list they are.
They are the kind of people I need not think twice,
To shower with my full respect.
The rest?
I wish them all the best.
They are not of my concern.
What has been earned...
Has already been issued, valued and satisfied.
No masquerades, charades or disguises needed.
What has been earned...
Has already been issued, valued and satisfied.
And with that between us known...
Apologies expressed are few and limited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Children Lose Their Innocence
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing
And all children are untainted in their life's early Spring
But by the time they've reached their teens their innocence they've lost
And the experience that we gain from age always comes at a cost.
When children lose their innocence they lose their gift of joy
The joy that comes from innocence in every young girl and boy
Compared to us young children see life quite differently
Of the guilt of corruption they are completely free.
I have such happy memories of when I was a boy
My childhood years were happy years but time just seemed to fly
And the experience that I've gained from life it came at a great cost
For I lost something beautiful when innocence I lost.
poem by Francis Duggan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
It Was Early I Was Told
Happy I am,
To sit among those...
Of common faces.
No status have I ever wished,
To be a full fledged aristocrat...
With a flaunting strutted.
It was early I was told,
Don't spite my nose...
For a choice made to have another.
And any path that I chose,
To walk it the best I can.
Happy I am,
To be able to reflect...
With such great memories.
And daring to be challenged,
Was a gift and not a curse given to me.
I can see why today there are so many unhappy.
Those who wished to be kings and queens...
And referred to as someone's prince or princess,
Actually believed...
Themselves royalty.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter what they had or however looked like.
And I always knew,
There was something within me great.
But I was taught to always appreciate life.
To respect everyone.
No matter where they lived.
Or impressions they 'gave'...
About how they lived their lives.
I was not raised to believe...
I was better than anyone to enable me,
To pass that kind of judgement.
And to have that encouraged,
To be welcomed or received as a belief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Without The Money
It is always the economy,
Affecting needs.
Always it is!
And not one's education...
Flaunted as perceived.
It is always the economy,
That breathes and feeds on greed.
And no matter if one goes to college...
It is not the Masters or Doctorate degree,
That keeps one perched...
High on a pedestal for all to see.
Without the money,
All pretensions can be dropped.
Oh without that money,
All the bragging seems to stop.
And it is without money...
No one talks about what they've got.
Or fingerpops with a bee-bop hopped.
If money is not felt...
A sobbing begins with a flow,
That can not be mopped.
It is always the economy,
That breathes and feeds on greed.
And no matter if one goes to college...
It is not the Masters or Doctorate degree,
That keeps one perched...
High on a pedestal for all to see.
It is that MONEY!
That holds a head higher than clouds.
It is that money making days sunny.
That ties that magic knot!
And if the economy doesn't feed,
A feeding of greed one receives...
A boo-hooing of tears becomes the reality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Teach Your Own Children
Just because you're a professor
with a doctorate degree does...
not mean you can teach even
your own children their ABCs.
poem by Terence George Craddock

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
looking Back An Overview Of A Life
Today, I turned forty three
So I look back or look ahead
Back to what I was or ahead to what I'll be
But not too far because then I'd be dead
I decided to look back then ttavel ahead
Exploring my most pivotal years
Remembering things people had said
Examining my deepest fears
Childhood, years of innocence and wonder
Everything to a child's eyes is new
Til one day, innocence is torn asunder
As surely as the sky will be blue
Teenage years, a sense of immortality
At such an age death is not even imagined
Doing everything with such youthful vitality
Not knowing the end is already predestined
Twenties and Thirties maturity is reached
And things just seem to fall into place
Your innocence, long since breached
Is remembered in the look on a child's face
In your Forties attaining middle age
Deciding that maturity looks good on you
Graying hair, against which you don't rage
You feel it's distinguished, how very true
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Or Hate
so many children in this world
so many little boys and girls
going without food or love
this is'nt what god expected of us.
children are a blessed gift from god
thats how you and i got our start.
take your time and look at a child
let their innocence love fill your heart
then find their innocence and beauty within
for we are all born with first man's sin.
they was taught this at an early start
they was taught that they was different
and better than others.
and no other race.
are your sisters and brothers
don't fill your heart with bitterness and hate,
make the change in yoursef before its too late.
don't let it consume and steal your soul
for in the long run my friend, it will take its toll.
we have to show them that what
they was taught is wrong
and in this world it does'nt belong.
it is time to take a stand
so give of yourself all that you can.
you see hatred should be a thing of the past
while love and faith are the things that will last.
poem by Louis Rams

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I First Lost My Impatience
I felt dirty and betrayed,
When I first lost my impatience.
I felt...
Used and so unclean.
I knew I had been stripped,
Of an innocence I would never have again.
To be vicious, cruel and mean...
Was all I saw and knew,
As a child growing up...
To be exposed to seeing these scenes.
People were being cussed out and talked about,
For not sharing their potato chips! Seriously.
I didn't know exactly why,
My impatience had been taken away...
In the manner it was done.
But I grew to understand there was a purpose.
And even if I shared all my chips...
I can always buy another bag. I learned!
Today I have discovered,
I have more patience than I have ever had.
And some who have come to test me...
Are surprised I am not so quick,
To give them a taste of impatience.
I have found a life I am determined to live.
One with a peace of mind...
And freed from 'identified' evil people.
Patience taught me how to observe first,
With my mouth closed and ears open to listen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No Clue What Keeps Them Established
A chemistry felt,
Is not communicated in words.
Nor does obtaining a degree,
Automatically certifies one intelligent...
With common sense.
Comprehension develops with experience.
Ask anyone with a degree who still feels ignorant.
And those who have gone through several relationships...
Have no clue what keeps them established.
Many people are seeking ways to impress...themselves!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!