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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar  9/4/2015 9:29:58 AM
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  Best Poems From
  LAWRENCE S. PERTILLAR (February/'47)
 
 
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  7229.     

In A Boast Stayed Boosted

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Eyes on demise!
With fire and brimstone in their sights.
And tantillized by cries of crisis.
To observe with a wish not to grow from it.
That validates misfits witnessed!

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.

And gloom is a boast stayed boosted.
That feeds upon such limitness,
Of those who love it on their minds and lips.
And...
Consumed,
With a self hatred.
To observe with a wish not to grow from it.
That validates misfits witnessed!

And proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.
And proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.
And proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.

And giving up more attitude...
To those who view them useless,
And...
Consumed,
In a boast stayed boosted!

And ready to be roosters noosed...
Plucked to be served after roasting,
With a juice or good brew!

And...
Consumed,
In a boast stayed boosted!
And...
Consumed,
In a boast stayed boosted!
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  7230.     

In A Bustle That We Haste

Like a brisk fresh brook,
Through a forest flows...
Unstoppable and clear,
When one is near it they can hear.

And taking hikes in the woods,
Does a city dweller good...
Without the handicap of bricks,
To sit with sentiments lamented.

So much can be advantaged,
If we managed to rid limits.
And giving Mother Nature more,
Than just a few minutes.

So much of life is wasted,
In a bustle that we haste.
As if there is a purpose in a rush anticipated,
Everyday.

So much can be advantaged,
If we managed to rid limits.
And giving Mother Nature more,
Than just a few minutes.

So much of life is wasted,
In a bustle that we haste.
As if there is a purpose in a rush anticipated,
Everyday.

Taking hikes in the woods,
Does a city dweller good...
Without the handicap of bricks,
To sit with sentiments lamented.

Like a brisk fresh brook,
Through a forest flows...
Unstoppable and clear,
When one is near it they can hear.
Don't delay.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  7231.     

In A Category All Your Own

Would I cuss you out?
Or 'will' I cuss you out?
Forgive me but...
I am not familiar at all with this request.
Can you be just a little more specific.
I don't mind doing it,
But...
You have to provide the incentive.

'So you just don't go around cussing people out?
And being offensive?
I saw that on a recent documentary.'

Of course not.
I am given something to ignite that desire.
Something that initiates the feeling.
You know...
You have to want me to cuss you out badly,
To provoke me to that point.

'I had no idea that's how it was done.
Depending on the situation,
How many cuss words could I possibly provoke you to use...
Within,
Say...
Five minutes of my nonstop ignorance that provokes you? '

You are visiting here on vacation aren't you?
And someone has become annoyed with you and sent you,
My way...
Right?
Either it is believed you are my perfect match...
Or something so disconnected in your head,
It is hoped a few of my choice words will tightened.
You are in a category all your own.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  7232.     

In A Deafening Stubbornness

A resting temporarily,
From a digging of a hole
Dug deep,
Is no cause for celebration.
For those blindfolded,
In a deafening stubbornness they keep.
Especially if the digging done,
Is away from and not towards the light.

And those who enthusiastically dig,
See themselves as making progress.

A progress only they believe,
Can be achieved
Without listening to others,
Standing above them in silhouette
Against the rays of the Sun.
A digging like this continued
Out of listening distance,
Has long ago begun!
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar