You Do That Quite Too Well With the Others
I wish I could appease you more than I do.
But that would leave me sitting in a vacantness.
Wrestling within with an unrest.
I would get upset with myself.
Especially if I left you feeling you could fly.
And I told you lies...
To see you make attempt after attempt,
With only one wing.
The humor of the sight of that,
Would only last but for so long!
And I'd be back.
Pacing with a regret I do not endear.
I am not professional at juggling doubts.
Not of my own.
Nor do I condone that skill of others.
I'd rather get you heated and pissed.
At least you would be expressing something other,
Than a pretentiousness that has its limits.
And I like to see you get raw!
Jaws dropping, draws and all.
Flipping out of your wits end.
And not for my own satisfaction,
Administered and you would produce.
But to see you loose.
With that cork removed from your ass.
I am not going to let you pretend with me.
You do that quite too well with the others!
And if I wanted to be entertained...
I can do that alone!
At least I don't have to question...
Anyone's honesty,
On how I am being perceived.
Or how I wish my emotions to be delivered,
With the best of intentions given
Based upon my requests.
And left resumés of those,
I chose to boost my ego!
I've learned the art of 'getting down and funky'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Too Long In Happiness
Did you expect to find me saddened?
Returning as a 'gift' to lift my spirits,
From darkened caverns of despair?
Hoping to build and boost me as your new project...
As you coached me through a narrow tunnel vision!
Something you suspect,
You placed and left there...
By a quick and regretted decision?
You have an expression of shock I witness.
Neither am I bitter...
Nor has hope for me been stopped!
Are you surprised I have no tears to drop?
What are you planning to plot on this 'visit'?
When you left without explanation...
And I saw you unexpectedly,
With a ticket to board a train at the station.
I knew right then you were setting me free!
I admit I was then a bit upset...
But something came over me!
I wasn't angry upon this sight I met!
I saw myself with a life you had stalled.
I chose to heal...
I chose to stand tall.
After bouts with doubts you left.
And after my emotions were torn as I crawled!
Realizing you were the one that had done this all...
I never looked back!
You made me see you were not worth that!
You made it clear you were not my destiny.
That was definitely a 'no no' for me!
Did you expect to find me saddened?
Returning as a 'gift' to lift my spirits,
From darkened caverns of despair?
Hoping to build and boost me as your new project...
As you coached me through a narrow tunnel vision!
Something you suspect,
You placed and left there...
By a quick and regretted decision?
I'll prepare you lunch.
And when you are done...
Disappear.
I wont allow you to smog my fresh atmosphere!
Is it clear...
I have been too long in happiness without you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm Not Upset! Not Yet!
Tell me where you go,
When you've got to leave me.
To say you're seeking some harmony!
Tell me where you go,
When you've got to leave me.
To say you're seeking some harmony!
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
'Cause,
I know you need alone time on your own.
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
'Cause,
I know you'll come back here to me at home.
Tell me where you go,
When you've got to leave.
I'm not upset.
Not yet,
'Cause...
I know you're needing some time alone on your own.
But you know at least you can pick up a telephone.
I'm not upset!
Not yet,
But...
Tell me where you go,
When you've got to leave me.
To say you're seeking some harmony!
Tell me where you go,
When you've got to leave me.
To say you're seeking some harmony!
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
'Cause,
I know you need alone time on your own.
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
'Cause,
I know you'll come back here to me at home.
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
But...
Something's getting heated and I'm feeling every bit.
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
But...
Something's getting heated and I'm feeling every bit.
I'm not upset!
Not yet!
But...
Something's getting heated and I'm feeling every bit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Mess Left To Deepen
A mess left to deepen,
By those who now weep...
Yet they swept this mess to lay in the streets.
While shunning away those,
That came to volunteer their services...
For free.
But told the debris,
Had been a figment of imposed negativity.
What was imagined was theirs to condone,
With a turning of their backs...
To expose an ignorance shown.
And what was in sight for all to see,
Was an impossibility to correct...
With a steadfast stubbornness,
Heating up to get more upset.
And what had been mentioned,
Created tensions amongst those offended.
Well...
Offended and left alone to condone their mess,
Has been done.
Leaving those who weep in their sleeplessness,
United with their wishes kept intact.
With nothing to bring them back to their senses.
Since outstanding were the payments...
To keep them smothered in delusions.
And being addicted to delusions is all they've known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enactments
Now that their feelings of betrayal...
And being disgruntled,
Have a rawness about it...
They believe there is a commonness,
Left to express those displeasures...
With those historically distressed.
Those they would normally regard as pests!
And that was just...
Yesterday!
With their duress confessed,
During these suppressed times...
They seem to quickly display,
A discomforting selfishness...
They wish would go away,
To unwind and leave behind.
Like keys left with the butler or maid.
If not for temporary and sentimental reasons!
When the times were good for them...
They would not be seen,
Appearing in daylight...
With 'those' disadvantaged on urban streets.
Exposing their faces on such scenes.
And rubbing shoulders,
With these 'underlings' they meet!
'These surroundings?
How gouache.
Tasteless.
And so unbecoming! '
They would have ignored them,
As not being among those blessed!
They would have compared their separateness...
By comparing acquired materialism,
That kept them feeling falsely blessed.
But somehow their current fellowship expressed,
Seems more like a pretentiousness hiding a desperation.
And spreading a shallow attempt,
To solicit empathy from those who can least afford it.
Those who know who 'they' are!
And why they have been kept by 'them' suppressed.
Those things they once had,
No longer provides the escape...
From their insecurities now exposed.
So they have 'chosen' to be amongst the poor.
To uplift a hollowness...
Left from a loneliness of an emptiness felt.
Somehow,
This can not be easily erased.
Or from them now to go ignored.
Or replaced...
As one awaits for delivered luggage,
To leave quickly a bad vacation.
Especially when faces of a different hue...
Reminds them of a racistness they inflicted,
And kept in place to subdue...
In brutal disrespect.
Who knew these times would be so stinging.
Leaving so many unprepared?
To unpack cares and fresh hints of concern.
Now 'they' appear as if in research...
Seeking a way to find a comfort.
One that is not as demeaning as seen,
Or vividly portrayed...
By those who seem professional,
Recreating enactments placed upon them...
To do that poverty 'thing'
Done so well!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If the Feeling Is Gone
If the feeling is gone
Please don't pretend that you still love me
I can see it in your eyes
And it hurts to admit it
I can't tell that the feeling is gone
All I ask is just a little honesty
Though I know that you're not coming back to me
You know I'll do anything to make you stay
But I just have to let you know
If the feeling is gone
There is sadness in your smile
Though it tries to conveive it
I can't tell if the feeling is gone
All I ask is just a little honesty
Though I know that you're not coming back to me
You know I'll do anything to make you stay
But I just have to let you know
If the feeling is gone
(2007)
poem by SarahLaney Long
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Stripped, Clawed and Flawed
Too many rather skip to a bar and nip.
Until they feel an alcoholic 'trip'.
And sit refusing to admit...
They're drowning denials that cause them fits.
Too many feel henpecked and nitpicked.
By spouses ripping them to bits.
And they choose then to bemoan their whims.
With others near,
Befriending them!
Spending every dime and feeling sick.
Leaving drunk with no left tip!
Stripped, clawed and flawed,
From a baring of emotions felt so raw!
Spending every dime and feeling sick.
Leaving drunk with no left tip!
Stripped, clawed and flawed.
And wishing they had not flapped,
Or dropped jaws.
Stripped, clawed and flawed,
From a baring of emotions felt so raw!
Around strangers who now know all!
And wishing they had not dropped jaws.
Stripped,
Clawed and flawed.
From a baring of emotions felt so raw!
Around strangers who now know all!
And wishing they had not dropped jaws!
Stripped,
Clawed and flawed.
'You left me not tip? '
Flawed and clawed.
'You left me not tip? '
Clawed and flawed
'You left me not tip? '
Flawed and clawed.
Stripped,
Clawed and flawed.
'You left me not tip? '
Flawed and clawed.
'You left me not tip? '
Clawed and flawed.
'You left me not tip? '
Flawed and clawed.
Stripped,
Clawed and flawed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick Fix
Some people are brilliant,
In their rhetoric.
Expounding in profound glory.
Expressing themselves with direct eye contact.
Firm handshakes to leave,
The best impression a gifted perfomer can deliver.
Their BS is rehearsed so well,
It smells wonderful.
Until it is realized the act delivered...
Is just what it is.
Entertainment to appease those thirsting,
For a quick fix!
And those professional at it...
Know exactly when to turn it on and off!
Hoping the spotlight is controlled,
By a very slow dimmer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mind Fed Rituals
When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Agitation Can Distance
Agitation can distance,
One who once had good intentions.
An overloading of expectations done...
Will leave those guilty,
Vacated.
And they are the ones who become shunned.
Without hesitation to retrieve,
A quietness missed.
When one squeezes a good thing,
Until there is none left...
They usually become appalled.
They usually do not self reflect,
Upon their own actions at all!
They themselves have created,
And delivered this invasion.
At the expense of diminishing,
A sense of innocence.
And someone else's satisfaction,
Others set out to slander and kill...
Seeks a protection from these ills.
And a splitting occurs,
With a peace of mind returned.
One that is earned and appreciated,
With lessons learned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conduct
No matter who we are,
All of us are judged...
Based upon our conduct.
And no distance is diminished,
By our conduct.
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
No matter if we're kind,
Most of the time.
And most of the time,
We show we are kind!
No matter if we're rich or poor...
With doors gold plated or cardboard,
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
But it's our conduct.
That beats most of us up!
We have those moods and attitudes,
But what we do is not excused...
If conduct,
Is not a pleasantry that's seen.
If conduct,
Is perceived to be one mean.
It's conduct!
We can attempt to cover it,
And it is conduct.
That beats us up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Choice Of Tone and Arrogant Demeanor
Why is it,
People solicit to get opinions...
Then wish them to be edited,
To appease their expectatons.
And those who refuse to honor their requests
Are thought to be stand-offish...
With an angering of those that stir up protests,
Against someone who attempts not to get them upset.
And yet it does,
And they do...
By trying to protect their sensitivities.
But the depth of them had not been explored,
To make known.
Why is it,
People solicit to get opinions...
Then wish them to be edited,
To appease their expectatons?
And that one who 'is' direct,
With a giving of an opinion to suggest and recommend...
Is seldom left to leave them without being disrespected.
To anger those...
Yep!
You've guessed it.
By trying to protect their sensitivities.
'It wasn't what you said that offended.
It was your choice of tone and arrogant demeanor.
And we are not accustomed,
To anyone who disregards what we accept.'
~What do you prefer?
Deception? ~
'YES!
We thought to 'you' this would be obvious.
Aren't we charading with the best of our pretentions?
How are you ever going to be one of 'us'? '
~Uh...
I'm clueless.~
'And apparently raw, out of the box and not trained, either! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Find I Must Clear The Air
Why can I smell your lies?
And each time...
Before you attempt one,
I find I must clear the air.
Before you put one in it!
Why can I smell your lies?
And your mood that arrives with attitude,
Is something that's done...
To announce a lieing done comes.
And you're the one stun I no longer get upset.
That dance you do as a prelude to your tales,
Needs more direct eye contact.
And less shuffling of your feet.
And those lips you lick between nonsense sentences,
Could use more moisterizer.
Since the heat that keeps them cracked,
Comes out of a familiar twisted mouth.
You're the only one that hasn't figured yourself out.
Why can I smell your lies?
And each time...
Before you attempt one,
I find I must clear the air.
Before you put one in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Waiting to Dispense a Benefit of Doubt
Doesn't it seem as if those with selective memories,
Are always quick to tell their versions of truth...
With few facts involved.
Accusatory and defensive are their most common traits.
And there to appease a fence sitting,
When confronted in debate.
Out of both sides of their mouths expect anything.
But honesty is not one of them.
Those with selective memories have no clue what honesty means.
It is just not in their natures.
Hopefully you are not one patiently in quiet waiting,
To dispense a benefit of doubt to eventually see wasted.
I only have a few of those 'I-told-you-so' left to spare.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sociopaths Stand Back
People in the middle,
Enjoy keeping their riddles griddled.
And slapped to sizzle nonstop.
While turning up the temperature...
To see who steams a lot!
Just to justify that feeling to boost.
Nobody adjusted and in a right frame of mind,
Sits to feel reduced,
In a seduction they can find.
Just to feel that boost.
Nobody wants to stay a loose goose cooked.
For other geese to please.
Just to feel that boost.
Nobody carries on their back,
Weighted troubles packed.
To consciously seek a place to bend their knees.
Just to feel that boost.
Nobody chooses to sing the blues,
Because they love the melody.
Just to feel that boost.
Although some may elect to fight...
Instead of leaving alone what is known is right.
Sociopaths stand back.
Nobody expresses those needs you feed.
Just to feel that boost.
And trying to justify,
Why their detached caboose is loose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Be Honest
If honest be a man all through his life,
As God is Truth, He’ll stand by him beside;
If he will waver not, despite all strife,
Why should he ever attempt suicide?
For Honesty is the best Policy;
No charges on an upright man is true;
To charge-sheet him also is not easy;
God will give him the dignity that’s due.
And knowing all this, people still tell lies,
And practise slander on their brethren rife;
Ill-gotten wealth is left back when man dies;
This is the time-tested truth of our life.
If man doesn't turn a new leaf in God's time,
He cannot make his life, ever sublime.
poem by John Celes
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Please, O God of Humor
Please, O God of Humor, give me the gift of being funny
naturally funny
so I can produce poetry and verse that tickles
and makes readers laugh so much their coins roll out of their wallets;
and let the children roll on the floor when my poems are recited;
for indeed my humor is the worst online by any standard
(or lack of standard)
for when I publish poems meant to be funny
my readers never understand me
and what I thought funny, they think tragic
and what I thought was tickle-tickle material
they find pathetic and practically laughable;
I am lectured to or consoled by readers
when I attempt humor;
I am sent e-mails and spam of advice
and words of caution when I attempt to be witty;
and my 113th poem
on the funny side of social networking
brought sympathy and pity for my lack of friends
but no appreciation for what I thought was funny;
and my 213th poem on old ladies at banks
brought outrage at me for hanging out at banks to ogle at wealthy, old ladies;
my 3131th poem on religion, the Divine
and its Power-packed representatives on Planet Earth
provoked no laughter but the ire and wrath of the other God
(you know, not you the Laughing God,
but the Other One, the Only One, the Angry Jealous God)
really neither man nor beast
nor the Highest Being in heaven
truly
nobody laughs at my verse
and nobody finds my offbeat humor at all funny;
Oh please,
God of Humor,
please make my humor a little like that of
Mr Bean or Jim Carrie
so I can have a universal audience
that will laugh at anything I write
(and perhaps incidentally, I’ll make some money)
and then they’ll all say:
See what the God of Humor and Laughter has done
for that simpleton Raj who never knew what humor in poetry is…
Please God of Humor, won't you humor me?
poem by Raj Arumugam
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End Of An Era
Yesterday I broke the chains
that had bound me tight.
Severed the links that had threatened
to suffocate me from the pleasures I had.
So closes the end of an era
that had eaten away part of me
and would have left me
an empty husk.
I have wanted to do it
for a long, long time,
but each time pleading voices
had dragged me back.
Now the end of an era
has left me free and relaxed.
I am again my own man
free to do the things as I please.
No more torment of trying
to please others
with what they wanted of me.
I can sit in peace once more.
Listen to the songs
that the winds have to play.
Listen in a golden silence
of the tiny birds on the wing.
I can reconstruct my independence
to the way I want it to be
and relax in freedom that
the end of an era has finally come.
I will no longer have to pretend
I am someone who is not really me.
Just sit back and relax now
with no worries to bother me.
27 May 2012
poem by David Harris
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Flight
A spiders web breaks the ocean of dark,
Alexandria‘s matrix, gold under
the stretching wing.
My eyes catch with wonder
the cross of night over Africa’s start.
How is the city that has left its mark
on wisdom and war? Do you still slumber,
or will unrest
cause the sound of thunder
once more, to tear your heated streets apart?
The lights fade into the returning dark.
Easing the chair, I tuck myself under
the free blanket.
Removed from the wonder
I cross the night into Africa’s heart.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Trying To Slam Doors
I slammed the door shut this time
Determined not to let you back in it again
Because of the choices you make
All you had to do was promise
To not make those choices anymore
And I would of easily taken you back
Everytime we get back together or hook up
We pretend everythings alright
I think the only reason
We hook up is because
We're both lonely
I didn't really feel that
Loving feeling this time
Except when he wanted to fool around
Could it be that we both know
That we should of left that door shut
If so it makes me wonder
How long it will stay left open
Before we start forcing it shut
I won't be telling anyone about his last visit
Or that I am still talking to him again
It's my secret because
I have begged my friends and family
To not let me do this again
I can't let them know how weak I am
Amused He May Be
One can not destroy truth.
Some attempt to diminish its effectiveness...
With the hopes that fresh lies told,
Will overwhelm truth.
And make it go away!
With repeated creative embellishments.
To convince with gained attention meant.
Telling a lie,
Eventually...
Is something one wished not done.
Especially when God gets involved!
To solve confusions.
Giving those who tell them...
Those adorning them fast to mask...
Every opportunity to correct themselves.
Yet,
Liars who say they believe in God...
Looked surprised and shocked,
By the consequences God makes them pay...
For believing this 'Deity' is just referenced,
In a book!
With scriptures to read and to say.
If God can make a tree...
Do not believe lies coming from lips,
Are not heard!
Even from those professing themselves...
With the best of self righteousness.
As if they become protected...
Behind quotes and verses learned.
Yet folks will get on their knees,
To beg for gifts, forgiveness...
And wishes to come true.
As if God does not punish!
But follows through like a Santa Claus.
Exhausted from midnight deliveries!
I've been made to awaken from my unconciousness.
Dazed but saved from my self centered insanity.
Read those Bibles folks!
God has commanded total cities to be destroyed...
If He is not loved first and obeyed.
God can become crazed with jealousy!
He has already warned...
'Do 'NOT' worship any God before Me! '
And you can pray as much as you want.
However...
The Master is not on the side of deceivers.
Amused He may be!
But not one bit pleased!
And God has left evidence.
Sent messengers.
Brought some close to death.
Tried to shock some to mend their ways.
Taken away their gifts He has delivered.
And had them screaming in pain and grief.
Yet still many do not accept...
These acts are the creations of God!
They would love to believe,
This Deity approves their deceptions.
However...
Those are the limitations,
Use by those demonized...
To inflict wickedness for thrills.
And even those addicted to 'crack'...
Know there is nothing thrilling,
About a slow death one does not expect.
Or accept...
When a punishment is administered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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