Without That Kind Of Interruption
I've had those in my life...
Who believed,
I should be fulfilling 'their' dreams.
I should be acting on stages.
Or be seen on movie screens.
I've even had those,
Who have heard my compositions.
And thought I should sing.
Or because of my voice...
I'd make a great announcer,
On a radio station of my choice.
But,
I've always been a writer.
And that few people knew.
Although I am surprised by that...
Because for years my comments have appeared,
In local newspapers for anyone to view.
And that's a fact.
There is not one talent I have,
That I have not exposed.
And I still have my own dreams to pursue.
While those passing judgement,
And offering their nonsolicited critique...
Have yet to succeed.
Because they are in the business of others,
Like most gossip driven nonproductive folk.
And most of my life I have been quite happy,
Validating my skills.
With a doing of it,
Locally.
Nationally.
And internationally too.
But I must admit I am uncomfortable,
Bragging about what it is I do.
And many people do not have this as an issue.
With the hope that only a few 'selected' knew.
'IF I had your talents,
The whole world would know who I am.'
~Maybe that is the reason,
I have been given them.
To let them evolve...
Without that kind of interruption.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
No Half-Time For Snacks
I am often amused
By those who believe
Creative people are weak.
I never thought that myself.
Since I knew too many geniuses...
Nearly living in the streets.
To pursue their way of life.
They weren't the ones,
Having coffee and buns.
And waiting to take an hour lunch break...
To come back to a desk,
To finish something that never gets done.
Or have cash on hand,
From a job where they are incompetent.
Everyone I knew who created...
Were and still are masters,
Of their gifts and talents.
And I know of very few...
Who take from nothing,
To make something like they do!
While so many take creativity for granted.
With nothing in their lives to pursue...
But a happy hour after work.
To discuss who they wish to screw...
Before going home to smoke pot,
Or booze to annoy someone
Who listens to them sing the blues.
And all of those who do create...
Are somewhere applying their craft.
24/7!
With no half-time for snacks!
Or...
Spending most of their lives,
Complaining!
Laying to lounge or sleep on their backs.
With a remote in hand,
Surfing through their televised adventures.
To boast about...
At their next 'business' meeting.
How creative?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Heard Santa On The Radio
On Christmas morning you woke up
To static on the radio
Someone must have turned it on
Who...you didn't know
You got up slowly sleepy-eyed
To a tune that stationed in
Turned the dial a little while
Then a voice said "Let the party begin!"
Hey Hey Hey and
Ho Ho Ho and
Now it's time
For the jolly DJ show
I Heard Santa On The Radio
I knew it was Santa on the radio
Mixing up the music like a Santa should
And radio never sounded so good
He was busy finding busting beats
Making it up as he went along
Hip hop, rock, and *****
St. Nick can do no wrong
Turning the rythem inside out
Till the people shook the house
Pretty soon every creature was dancing
Every boy and girl and every mouse
Hey Hey Hey and
Ho Ho Ho and
Now it's time
For the jolly DJ show
I Heard Santa On The Radio
I knew it was Santa on the radio
Mixing up the music like a Santa should
And radio never sounded so good
All the music comes together
All the people just let go
All the world is listening to the jolly DJ show
Hey Hey Hey and
Ho Ho Ho
I Heard Santa On The Radio
I knew it was Santa on the radio
Mixing up the music like a Santa should
And radio never sounded so good
I Heard Santa On The Radio
I knew it was Santa on the radio
Mixing up the music like a Santa should
And radio never sounded so good
I Heard Santa On The Radio
I knew it was Santa on the radio
Mixing up the music like a Santa should
And radio never sounded so good
And radio never sounded so good
song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With a Weakness of Mind and Physicality
Rising above criticism and self critique,
May be a little easier...
For someone accustomed,
To living a life that is public.
And not discreet.
Some habitually hide themselves,
Under layers of choice and voices selected.
And choose words heard,
That flatter as preferred.
It takes courage to step out in front.
To confront opposition and be blunt.
People who fear to have their feelings hurt,
Are usually those,
Who spread gossip with a thirst.
Rising above criticism and self critique,
May be a little easier...
For someone accustomed,
To living a life that is public.
And not discreet.
Some habitually hide themselves,
Under layers of choice and voices selected.
And choose words heard,
That flatter as preferred.
With a weakness of mind and physicality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Like That
All of my life I had observed those,
Who sacrificed...
In the pursuit of their dreams.
And doing what it took,
It seemed.
Even if that meant forever...
Holding onto that,
Wish
In the hope that it would happen!
Up for days and nights.
Sometimes not having a bite to eat.
Some I knew,
Even slept on streets.
Back then when they had them so strong!
And I have come to admire people like that!
People who attacked their obstacles.
People who aren't seeking standing ovations.
People who aren't seeking a title to bear.
People who wear their dignity and pride.
People who keep their dreams alive inside themselves!
People who may cry and hide their tears.
People who for many years...
Hold on to dreams with a smile!
And I have come to admire people like that.
I have come to admire people like that!
People who care sincerely for others.
And sometimes disregarding their own needs.
Sparing their own they could easily declare.
People like that are not everywhere.
And I have come to admire people like that!
Despite their sacrifices.
Inspite of the fact...
That may have gotten themselves off track.
Inspite of that...
They would fight and struggle,
To get themselves right back to continue...
To shuffle or maintain a bustle to hustle on!
I've come to admire them!
And I aspire to be...
Just like that!
Despite any setbacks,
My dreams should be kept alive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Present I Give To You
*written for my friend kathy*
from the day i met you,
there was something about you,
you made me feel safe,
like it was my mother talking from you,
you gave me the hope,
to make it to where i am today,
i won't forget,
your words you said,
that i will be somebody who will succeed,
through my problems,
and make a difference in the world,
you believed in me,
when people were becoming sick of me,
for the way i was thinking,
as if it was a bad thing,
we are all human being,
aren't we surpose to make mistakes?
there not a day,
i think it should be my last,
niether should you,
i believe in you,
like you did for me,
you made me into a different person,
because you believed in me,
you showed me my life had meaning,
you given me the power to make it,
where i am today,
i just wish you can open your eyes and see,
what kind of a person you are,
great, sweet and caring,
than you can see why i say it's a blissing,
to have gotten to meet you,
and get through my problem as you, my friend,
because this is not the end,
god won't let his gift go,
he will fight to keep you as long as he think you should,
don't fight the power,
you'll make it through this,
with that said,
this is my present to you,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! ! !
may your dreams come true.
Copyright © 2009
7-15-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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The Horse's Mouth
You've learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
You feel betrayed by this...
And confront reliable sources.
They are dumbfounded too.
They believed they knew more,
Than what they actually knew.
And they too feel betrayed,
By this.
They've all learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
And all felt betrayed by this...
With no one left to confront.
And dumbfounded too.
How could this business done,
Skip by whispers and listening ears?
Not so reliable are those sources.
And those who had spread their lies with glee,
Awakened one day with this understanding...
They have no idea who anyone really is!
They have no idea...
Since the horse's mouth,
Had ignored for years...
All of their ears!
Since that horse,
Of course...
Few knew anything about,
Whenever that horse appeared.
You've learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
You feel betrayed by this...
And confront reliable sources.
They are dumbfounded too.
They believed they knew more,
Than what they actually knew.
And they too felt betrayed,
By this.
The horse conducted its business,
Distant from their flapping lips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Knew But Didn’t Know
Occasionally people come into our lives,
people we knew but didn’t know.
We knew them from our early years
before life sent us in different directions.
Years would pass before we met again
with this person we knew but didn’t know.
The passing years had changed us both,
wiser but strangers no less.
In the exchanges that follows a friendship grows.
A friendship that was never there before
with this person we knew but didn’t know.
Everything happens for a reason
and the reason is not for us to know.
In meeting it changes us, ignites a flame within,
a flame of caring given a chance should have been.
Now in maturity we get to know that person
we knew but didn’t know.
What the future holds is as uncertain as tomorrow,
but we walk towards it with this friend,
a person we knew but didn’t know.
27 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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Not Everyone Can Be Famous
Not everyone can be famous though many yearn for fame
In a World where millions do die without a penny to their name
And that any hope of an egalatarian Human World cannot exist cannot be denied
Whilst the gap between the haves and the have nots is growing ever wide
Their dreams of great wealth and fame millions do pursue
But for many of course such dreams never come true
And many who have great dreams die in poverty
For dreams are just dreams that's how it seems to be
Around the World today in every village, city and town
People daydream of great things of wealth and renown
And though to live in poverty only the saintlike would choose
For one for to win many destined to lose
To achieve in a big way seems a human need
And though many strive for success only few do succeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Detest Those Kinds Of People
Please,
Do not interpret my giving...
Of an unsolicited opinion,
To be biased in any way.
Or as a passing of judgement.
I detest those kinds of people.
However...
Why were those folks invited,
To this exclusive party?
They look as if,
They have an absence of social skills.
I hope I am not approached.
What on Earth would 'we' have in common?
And I know for a fact,
People who live where they live at...
Are not what you might say,
Mentally equipped to comprehend...
Any of the subjects we will be discussing.
And...
Take a look at his shoes!
The last time they had a shine on them,
Was when he took them out of the box.
And that 'had' to have been many years ago.
I'll be right back.
I need a double scotch and ginger.
'I hear you.
I'm glad those people who pass judgement aren't here.
They would have a field day picking people like that apart.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Devils Radio
Devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
I heard it in the night
Words that thoughtless speak
Like vultures swooping down below
On the devils radio
I hear it through the day
Airwaves gettin filled
With gossip broadcast to and fro
On the devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Hes in the clubs and bars
And never turns it down
Talking about what he dont know
On the devils radio
Hes in your tv set
Wont give it a rest
That soul betraying so and so
The devils radio
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
(oh yeah) gossip, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) oh yeah, (oh yeah) gossip
Its white and black like industrial waste
Pollution of the highest degree
You wonder why I dont hang out much
I wonder how you cant see
Hes in the films and songs
And on all your magazines
Its everywhere that you may go
The devils radio
Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah
Runs thick and fast, no one really sees
Quite what bad it can do
As it shapes you into something cold
Like an eskimo igloo
Its all across our lives
Like a weed its spread
till nothing else has space to grow
The devils radio
Can creep up in the dark
Make us hide behind shades
And buzzing like a dynamo
The devils radio
(gossip) oh yeah, (gossip) oh yeah
(gossip) gossip, (gossip) gossip
Oh yeah, gossip I heard you on satans wireless
Gossip, oh yeah you know the devils radio, child
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Defered Dream
• is hope an infringement of life
where as an inspired metaphor
depleted a reason to grow
Is hope so defile in life
that a dream is deferred
upon the wish to succeed
is only a dream
Is hope so denied
that every time you try
you trying, trying again
to start all over again?
Is hope so bitter
that your dreams are over looked
because no one understood you?
Is hope a simile to believe
in all hope, life and maturity
to succeed
is hope the dream you believed
that dream and it became true
poem by Angela Khristin Brown
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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
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Then I Met You
I thought I had all I could ask for
Only a fool would think there was more
I would never have believed
That anything could feel brand new
Then I met you
Id been around the world, and then some
Anything I wanted I could get some
But I had not been anywhere
I could not share the things I knew
Then I met you
Ooh then I met you
I never thought I would ever say
That I need you the way I do
But then I never felt what Im feeling today
I just never knew, then I met you
Ive heard my songs over the radio
They follow me wherever I go
I wold listen to my own words
And wonder why theyd never ring quite true
Then I met you...and I knew
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pointless Oppositions
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
When I began to do this I felt alone and strange.
Especially when people misunderstood my attempts,
To do what I desired and not seek attention to get.
Although it was part of the territory to be exposed.
I only knew of a love of it.
Ego had nothing to do what I chose!
And as years have gone by so happy am I,
To see others with 'gifts' express them in public.
I know how lonely and difficult it gets,
When others with no interests...
'Assume' they can pass judgement with senseless tests.
Hoping to discourage those born to do their best.
To only witness one determined to be who they are,
And achieve with a doing to reflect their best efforts.
So happy am I and pleased to see,
Others with talents to express them publicly.
And...
Putting to rest,
Those who protest with their pointless oppositions.
Only those who know,
Grow from those wounds to heal to show what's real.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dangerous to My Health
There are those who were born,
To have no other purpose in life...
Than to agitate others.
I admit,
When I was younger...
I thought I would like to specialize in this field.
Since I was told by several people,
How I got on their last nerve.
And the doing of it I found to be quite easy.
I became bored with that.
Especially when I discovered there were others,
Practicing this craft.
And not doing it with enough bite.
So tempted was I to help them redo their agitations.
I was very serious when I thought I should show them,
My own techniques.
I was young and full of testing authority.
If my parents were alive,
They would confirm and validate my comments.
But...
When my mama screamed at the top of her lungs,
Pulling on her hair with her eyes bulged out...
Shouting at me one day,
'Boy, that's it! You've gotten on my 'last' nerve.'
I knew then...
I was able to do it to such a degree,
To threaten my own existence.
She frightened me.
And I knew then I had reached perfection.
And something inside me said...
Continuing to do that could be dangerous to my health.
So needless to say...
I've discovered more advantageous skills to develop,
Over the years.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prolog
Having lots of precious things is hard
If we want something
Sometimes we should sacrifice other
Precious thing like heart
In this world there are so many kind of people
And so many kind of dreams
People are fighting each other
Crying and laughting one another
Between all of them
How many people succeed their dreams
And how many
who reach their dreams and feel satisfied
Maybe no one ever know that
Because
Who decide the answer are us
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Over Our Heads
I don't think you love me
Confusion settling in
I don't think I'll be staying
Around here, anymore
There's no question that I love you
But I'm living in my own time
And here I am debating
Whether I'm wrong, or right
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
All the promises I gave you
Helped me to survive
And all the times I wished you'd save me
You were the love of my life
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
Who am I
To make a judgement of
Your life
I'm only
Passing by
Passing by
I'm only passing by ...
song performed by by Zero 7
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misplaced confidence for M lady C.T.Heart
Although dreams can come true; they seldom do.
We are convinced this rule does not apply
to us. We will be treated differently.
Such is our egocentric point of view
So we believe the dreams which we pursue
could well come true. We see no reason why
we should not succeed if we really try.
We fervently believe we deserve to.
The old adage” Hope springs eternally
Does not accord with our experience
but we can disregard this easily”
although it goes against all common sense.
Dreams are not known for logicality.
So in our dreams we still place confidence.
10-Nov-08
Http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When Remembered For What It Is And Missed
Knowing the business of one's talent helps,
After establishing a recognition.
It is not the fact that one gains attention,
That a gift is remembered when it is presented.
It is the timelessness of content.
And one's ability to perceive,
From where that talent comes...
To one who has received it from a birth given.
To acknowledge a tree and admire its leaves,
To then disregard its roots...
Is a foolish position one should never take.
People become curious when one's talent is exposed.
But only those who are about the genuineness,
Of their talents from a business sense...
Continue to work on it all their lives.
And the growth and blooming of it shows to others,
Who enjoy the taste of it over and over again.
Since the quality of it never diminishes,
When remembered for what it is and missed.
And a true talent that is,
Never becomes subjected to standards lowered...
By those who excel,
In limited beliefs...
That a game pf playing a battle of wits,
Is part of it!
It isn't.
Not in this genre!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dreamers
I used to be a dreamer,
and hope for the best,
but then I fell below,
with the rest.
I thought I understood,
I thought I knew right,
but I never knew,
I'd lose the fight.
I gave up that day,
on my dreams,
because they got me nowhere,
so it seems.
My dreams were pointless,
just false hopes,
when yet I was,
bound with ropes.
Tied to this world,
full of fear and pain,
and there was I,
stuck in the rain.
I was a dreamer,
many years before,
but there is just,
no use anymore.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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