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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar  10/31/2014 12:35:09 PM
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  Best Poems From
  LAWRENCE S. PERTILLAR (February/'47)
 
 
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  8797.     

Nothing Missed

Where is that 'was' we once had...
Then left behind.
That 'was' that does not exist for us,
Now.
And has not been touched for years.

I often wonder what had happen to that love.
We then couldn't resist to reveal it quick,
The moment we stripped and appeared naked...
With promises never to leave lips locked tenderly.
But today we seem to enjoy separate dreams.

I never thought I would live my life alone.
To come to liking it,
Just as it is.
Without the moods and unexpected tears.

I never thought I would live my life alone.
To come to liking it,
And condoning a reminiscing.
But confessing nothing is missed.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  8798.     

Nothing More Nor Is There Anything Less

I am quite simple.
And I guess in that basicness,
There is a complexity some wish to see.

I have no hidden agenda.
No ego to massage.
I too concern myself,
With a degrading quality of life.
I wish I had powers to make that right.
But I don't.
Nor will I let that be assumed...
I enforce 'visions' like that in my mind.
To occupy and absorb.
As if I allow that room.

I am quite simple.
And I guess in that basicness,
There is a complexity some wish to see.

I acknowledge I am a writer.
But I express that done,
With the best of my ability!
And nothing more,
Nor is there anything less...
Will I confess,
Satisfies or gratifies that constant need.
Whether or not that is understood by others.
I understand it!
And somehow...
That is all I need to know.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  8799.     

Nothing Natural About It At All

That portrait painted,
Hangs much too low,
The light from it appears to be shaded.
Where did the gleeming smiles,
And the brightness go?

Those sloping lush hills,
Seemed so green just yesterday.
Even when the clouds and rain came near...
None of it on this portrait showed.
The rays of the Sun,
Were then so clear.

Wasn't the Sunrise on the horizon,
Full of vivid promises free of duels?
And who came to smear a tinge of darkness upon it?
That had to have been just after noon.

The peaks of mountains,
Snowcapped and strong?
There is something about it,
That will not be prolonged.
The melting of snow,
Seems to have gone.

What 'is' this?

Something about it,
Has to be stopped.

I can see in its future,
This portrait is going to be forgotten.
Snatched off the wall.
And its presence remembered...
From memories dropped.

That can not be the same portrait!
Seen now to hang so pitifully.
Tilted, in a lopsidedness.
That brings not a hint of joy to me.

Is this someone's idea,
Of a joke to provoke?
My atmosphere...
Is not a place to invite tears?
The sweeping of the strokes...
Has abandoned its meaning.
To another scene in a secret elope.

That portrait painted,
Hangs much too low,
The light from it appears to be shaded.
Where did the smiles,
And the brightness go?

HELLO!
...hello...hello...hello...

Even the echos once heard from the valleys,
Aren't responding with a clarity.
Rich and reflective.

This is not an original.
This one is absolutely faked.
Who is trying to exhibit this image?
To pass it as something great?

Take it away from this place.
Get rid of it.
And tear down that wall.
It makes me sick.

It has become too common.
It blocks out all that's right.
There's nothing natural about it at all.
It conflicts with the ambiance.
And this ambiance...
Does not invite blight!

Get rid of it now!
More light is what I wish.
Take that piece of trash and burn it.
After its been dumped,
To cover the fumes...
In a dirt covered ditch!
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 

   
   
 

  8800.     

Nothing Nibbled Is Permanent

Live as if life is meant to give.
And...
That life we all have has 'already' been given.

Take as if rewarded for deeds achieved.
And...
Pleased with a life lived is guaranteed.

However...
One breathing daily the breath of life,
Seeking the fulfillment of promises others make...
May become disappointed by the length of the wait,
As frustrations become more the experience...
Of one's delayed expectation.

And,
Unfortunately...
For those living like this,
A complaint department does not exist!

So...
Live as if life is meant to give.
And...
That life we all have has 'already' been given.

Just know this...
Those prepared to taste the texture of cupcakes,
May have to settle for sour lemondrops as a replacement...
Now and then!

Remember...
Nothing nibbled is permanent.
Whether enjoyed or not!
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Lawrence S. Pertillar