En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Witless

They see themselves as prime.
Something others crave sometimes.
They see themselves as 'fine'!
And 'why' most ask?
Why do they have that in their minds?
They see themselves better than others.
In a place where neglect and disrespect takes place!
And when many come from other cities to visit...
They are heard to say out loud as they may,
'Who are these folks and why are they mentally sick?
Who do they think they are when it is obvious they have flipped,
Witless! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flipped To Sit On Minds

Mister Pertillar?
Are you as fantastic as those rumors,
I 'use' to hear you to be?

'Well...
Yes,
Of course!
Why?
Do you believe I should updat them?
Since these days...
Hardly anyone says 'fantastic' anymore.
You have any suggestions?
I've already used 'dope', 'sick'...
And 'flipped to sit on minds'.'

I haven't heard that one before.

'You're kidding.
I started out with that one.

I'll give you twenty dollars.
Go to the nearest bustop.
Use your cellphone.
Pretend you're talking to someone...
And say,
'Who?
Who is FLIPPED TO SIT ON MINDS?
You're kidding?
Lawrence who?
Pertillar?

Keep repeating it,
Until you are satisified...
You have annoyed everyone within listening distance.
That should do it.

I wondered why I hadn't gotten any rolling of the eyes,
Of late.

My friend,
You are a blessing in disguise! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Know How They Are?

You know how they are...
Loud and boisterous.
Disrespectful and undisciplined.
As if common sense has skipped over them.

With a gutterness despicable.
Expose to others they wish influenced.
Accepting this withoput protest.

And they believe what they do is fine.
Blinded by the show of sighs and dismay!
They have been conditioned,
Their sick behavior is okay!
But...
There is an obvious neglect that reflects.
And destroys what is desired to be left protected.
And investment of a mindset,
Gone!

You know how they are?

'Yes, I do!
But they don't see this as pitiful.
Distracting and off track!
That is the sadness of all of that! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Visitor

Honestly?
You asked for my opinion,
And here it is for free!

Anyone can say what they want.
And process what they want to share.
I've learned over the years,
To keep my business to myself...
And not let my business become 'theirs'.

Folks who have a different reality,
That's fine...
It may not be mine.
Wherever their minds are,
That's on them...
I keep my mind away!
I'm not going to stay around anyone,
Making attempts to be accepted...
By choosing right words to say!

I enjoy my life and where it is right now.
And that was a long time coming.
I take my time listening to the birds...
And sometimes with them I'm humming!

I appreciate the little things,
And observe again what was passed by!
When I talk to someone in conversation...
I look them in the eyes.

I don't disrespect anyone with neglect,
By looking away or up to the sky!
That kind of treatment is worse than telling a lie!
And from those kinds of people...
I do my best to hide!

I've learned to have fun,
And sometimes by myself.
I don't have to be in a crowd of folks...
To feel important or laugh at bad jokes.
And honesty comes first with me.
Someone who doesn't give it is instantly dismissed!
I don't waste my time with pretense or self indulgence.
Or kiss up to anyone to be part of someone's clique!

And if I show myself in disguise,
Wearing a mask that does not fit!
I want it known,
I am either not feeling well...
Or around those that are making me sick!
And...
That's not a habit I would normally condone.
That is why affairs like these I'd rather leave alone!

'Oh?
So I take it you are a visitor,
And not from around this area?
I must get back to mingling with my friends.
Thank you for your observations!
You never know...
We might meet again! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The idea that seeing life means going from place to place and doing a great variety of obvious things is an illusion natural to dull minds.

quote by Charles Horton Cooley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soon Coming to a Set of Eyes Near You

They could have had their culture and identity in place.
But many of them because of jealousy,
Took their time to slander and erase...
Any deed that was done by anyone who came to uplift them!
They were sure to crush and ambush.
That has been their unconscious mission.
They are mentally sick.
But don't know this!

Folks with megaphones in communities...
Preaching from the Bible about unity.
Are they themselves in divisions.
They reflect themselves to have conflicts within them.
They do not have peaceful minds at all.
Recovering from drugs and alcohol.
Wanting to express their personal findings of God!

What has been embraced today...
Is a guilt expressed that has created an economic mess.
And a decadence that has fed gluttony,
Will still be at a heated fervor pitch...
If there were signs an abundance of it were being produced.
And Bible thumpers had their hands on it.
When folks see their greed about to cease...
That's the only reason they call upon God!

And that's why God is switching up all agendas.
With priorities for many to become vividly clear...
In the sharing of one reality!
There will be no varities or assortments of it...
Depicted from one's interpretation of a scripture lifted,
To define God's meaning.
Soon coming to a set of eyes near you!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nice Place To Visit

Not really lookin for, for nothing special,
Just someplace that I can call my own,
Im growing tired of, of running wild,
Its time I settled down
Bridge:
There seems to be some lights on,
But aint nobody home
I think I see some lights on,
But there aint nobody home
Aint being choosy, but
Dont want no floozy,
And thats not much to ask
Chorus:
Shes a nice place to visit (3x)
But I wouldnt want to live her,
Nice place to visit
Hey, is anybody home?
Seeing is believing,
But looks can be deceiving,
What you get aint always what you see
I like what s down there,
But no one is upstairs,
I think theres bats in the belfry
Chorus
I dont know whats come over me,
Im blinded by the scenery,
Nice place to visit,
I dont know what Im gonna do
Im coming back because of you,
Nice place to visit, visit, visit...
Bridge
This big bad wolf knows
Which way the wind blows,
And which little piggys house is made of brick,
Must have vacated, or mislocated,
Theres just toys, toys in the attic
Chorus (hey, is anybody home? )
Knock, knock, whos there?
Shes a nice place to visit (2x)

song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honor of Deed

Raised to place their values in 'things'.
And the superficialness of looks,
With the best of false pretensions.

Very few of them have sacrificed their lives,
In the honor of deed.
Without proceeding that 'development'
With the asking for payment,
Or if an hourly fee for their activity was involved.

None would find time available.
If certain desires are not met.
And the few who are...
Available,
Busy themselves for critique,
And fashion!
AND may spend all day perfecting the 'look'!
As if in ceremony.
To welcome their own 'gorgeousness'.

No one would roll up their sleeves.
To sweat for free and purpose?
Even though the act of that,
Would aid in their survival!

These folks would rather be clothed...
Dressed to 'the nines'.
Seen strolling on urban streets looking healthy and 'fine'.
Or at least giving that perception.
Although in reality...
Many thought it distasteful to share.
Or beg for anything to eat!
If that was not done...
Like everthing done they do,
In discreet!

Note:

Dressed to the 'nines' was an expression
said in 'the day' when Black folks, Negroes...
African Americans, if you will, would dress
as if to impress and flaunt their looks. Primarily
in urban centers. Saving their best attire for Sunday.
In a respect that has drastically diminished over the years.
Today...
More are concerned with babysitting idealogies of the past.
As if not to offend the existence of disrespect.
With a condoned neglect and an acceptance of ignorance!

Of course this is an opinion...
many can not seem to erase from the 'clarity' of observation!
As well as other tragic signs of those living in denial.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unzipped, Flipped and Plucked

Unzipped,
Flipped...
And plucked.
Sometimes,
That is what it takes,
To break down barriers.

And introducing a rawness.
Removing that which is fake...
To sweat and eliminate,
The mistake of misunderstandings!

And getting what takes place,
Face to face,
In a nakedness that is bare.
And inspires without distractions.
Addressed by the motivation,
Of undressed flesh.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Danger Zone

New York is a real cool town
society really brings me down
our playground is a pharmacy
kids find trouble so easily

other countries are just as bad
the Soviets really make me mad
on the boulevard where the police hide
let's steal a car for a joyride

they say you're just an awkward kid
you flipped your lid you flipped your lid
you love wine like they love cash
feel your rage spread like a rash

you flipped your lid you flipped your lid
you flipped your lid you flipped your lid
they say you're just an awkward kid
you flipped your lid you flipped your lid

all alone in the danger zone
danger zone danger zone
all alone in the danger zone
danger zone danger zone

song performed by by Ramones from Too Tough To Die
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Place, Same Time

Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time

The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun

Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time

These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls

Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time

Break

It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there

Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time

Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)

poem by Colin Coplin
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Nostalgia

you visit your mother's burial place
white painted cemented mausoleum
she has a picture on the cover of
her own solitary place
you go near
and touch her glossy cheek
she has the smile
that takes you again
somewhere
in that room where you were with her
she kisses you
while you were this little boy
sleeping

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cut and Separate Quick to Split

There are those who believe themselves chosen,
To hold up the process of one's life.

They are the ones who elect to be understood...
With no comprehension or faith to do things.
Not the way they should be done.
Unless they have a say...
In which way they decide,
What has to be done for them is right.
And something that initiates,
A feeling of false pride.

Even though what gets done,
Is at a time that arrives too late for some.
With an expectation for others they delay...
Should sit and wait with a patience,
That has become frayed.
Strained and frazzled.

Or...
They wish to debate uselessly,
Over that which should have taken place.
And wasting as much time as they can,
To be understood!
'For goodness sake!

I am not the cause for this reaction! '

When folks like this,
Began to flaunt excuses to abuse and disrespect...
Never acknowledge what it is that they do,
Because from you they will determine...
You have become accustomed to their neglect!
And from you expect apologies.

Sever yourself from these kinds of people.
Cut and separate quick to split...
From this addicting BS.
And have none of it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Roof Again (Callout Hook 1)

In the throws of young love Leroy
Didn't think to think and in the blink of an eye
Tied the knot not knowing how to not know
He was the prodigal son this girl had brought him home
He moved out of his step dad's apartment
He moved in with this cute Guatemalan
Things were copasetic 'til she caught him
Things were cool and collected 'til she found him erected with another
Shit went bad he's on the roof again
She flipped, he flipped the bird
And then he went to the roof where his threats ring loud and clear
Gonna jump gonna jump gonna die this year
Got screwed by the horse that he rode in on
Riding high on his whims had only gotten him down
He moved back to his step dad's apartment
Where he put himself back together 'til
She came back he's on the roof again
She flipped, he flipped the bird
And then he went to the roof where his threats ring loud and clear
Gonna jump gonna jump gonna die this year
Your heinous highness broke her hymen hey man try to quit your crying
I know she broke your heart but try to come try to come down
Shit went bad he's on the roof again
She flipped, he flipped the bird
And then he went to the roof where his threats ring loud and clear
Gonna jump gonna jump gonna die this year

song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Imprint On My Mind

All dressed up with no place to go.
I visited a place a long time ago.
The people there had lost their minds.
I looked around and saw all kinds.

Some were young and some were old.
Some were in their prime.
Some were new arrivals
and some were there a long time.

Some were incoherent
and some were jabbering away,
talking to invisible people
that might come and take them away.

There was one young woman pacing up and down
all dressed up in fine clothes.
Where she was planning on going
God only knows.

They told me that she did this routine
on every single day.
She was waiting for someone to come for her
and finally take her away.

This scene made its imprint on my mind
and stayed with me since then.
I still see her pacing in her dress-up clothes
even though I've never seen her again.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pastimes

Fixed in place to market escapes,
And entertain with distractions.
Pastimes divert to deviate numbed minds.

Collective mindsets daydream of holidays.
Days off and vacations with pay.
Await patiently to negotiate opportunities,
To become officially lazy and approved.

Pastimes are expensive to initiate.
And advocate dysfunctions of all kinds.
Especially thjose feeling entitled,
To disrespect, neglect, stay lazy and get paid.

Pastimes dedicated to waste,
And have quickly replaced discipline...
Have to come to an end.
Statistics have already proven them to be,
Too costly of an investment with no dividends coming in.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take me Back home

Take me back,
Back where I once came from,
From the place I was born and raised,
This place I am at its not home its pure hell for me,
A young child who was only
8 left home to be in a new so called happy place,
That place made me miserable,
Hated by those who hated me,
Picked on those you can’t fight back,
Yet I cry and cry over no one heard my pain,
I scream no one heard,
It’s a little too late for me to go back,
At 16 yet I still think of my true home where my true heart lays,
Where I must try to go back no matter what it takes,
Just take me back home where I feel safe at.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wilmas Rainbow

You heard about, be your own man
You talk a lot and loud
Illustrate the obvious boy
Youre mentally endowed
Watershed year comes
Youre flush with fever
The richest junk dealer
Honestly, a book you read once let you
Think in rhyme. the old extreme sits
Pale and molds now for the
Millionth time
Wilmas rainbow of peaceful colors
The richest junk dealer

song performed by by Helmet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mentally, Physically and Spiritually Sick

No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.

They choose to disrespect one another.
Then proclaim desires for unity.
Observing them in their places of worship...
You would think heaven was on Earth.
The way they perform, dance and sing.
In praises to their hypocrisies.
And into their communities,
These hypocrisies with them they bring.

No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.

Tell them their children create havoc in the schools.
They deny this.
They want better teachers.

Tell them that crime is in their minds.
And they initiate it.
They demand for more police,
To prove you wrong.

Tell them they have no identity,
And despise themselves for who they are.
And they would cuss each other out.
On their way to church.
Pray to God and then quote scriptures.
With a love for God they say they thirst.
Come out of these dens of evil...
To cuss each other out!
Spewing scriptures and devilment,
From both sides of their mouths.
Then call you 'brother' or 'sister'.
As if they are invisible.
And nothing you've seen had played out like this!
Denying what has been observable.

No.
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions to exist.

Anyone exposed to this,
To digested it for what it is...
Know what these folks don't know!
And it is not a multiple choice quiz.

These folks have no idea,
They have psychological problems.
In their heads.
Between their ears!

These folks aren't aware,
They are mentally, physically and spiritually sick!
And anything that has degraded them,
Wouldn't be in their lives...
If they did not choose this to exist!

But no!
They don't want to talk about it.
In fact,
It is treated as if,
Truth Is a deception.
And they live for deceptions...
To continue to breathe exactly as is!
As if addicted to self righteousness.
Or...
Strung out on a massive crack attack!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friends Drifting Away

One day you might wake up
and find your friends not there
you think they are sick in class
that their minds will reappear.
You Wait days and days
but they never come
They are there physically but not mentally
it's like they're permentally sick
like their life force is gone.
You have to hold onto,
your friends you're sure are the best,
that you Never, Ever will have to test

poem by Kimmy Olson
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A Place From Our Childhood

There is a place from our childhood;
we like to visit now and then,
to recapture our youth,
through the years that has slipped away.
A place that has a magic touch,
even through the years it has changed.
A place where sunshine,
still dances on the water
of rippling waves.
Where the wildlife still gather,
free from harm.
A place of solitude,
where you can find
a little peace of mind.
A place within a city that has not
been strangled by any human hand.
Somewhere you can while time away,
with dreams of another day.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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