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Best Poems From
LAWRENCE S. PERTILLAR
(February/'47)
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8797.
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'Mysteriously' Blown A Fuse
The biggest problem people keep in their minds,
Not to leave...
And they believe others seek and need,
Is the giving of their unsolicited opinion.
From a point of view that skips over,
An overdue self examination mired in deep denial.
And entangled with delusions to praise,
Most today are afraid to eliminate.
Few on the move and with business prioritized to do,
Are not doing this with wishes to please anyone.
That is...
Anyone not within the scope of their mutually shared,
Interdependent necessity deemed dependable....
Between themselves to agree.
And those deluged with requests,
To have their noses stuck up in affairs not theirs...
Aren't dealing with reality.
And that's where the core of their dilemmas lie.
As if on-a-call and stand-by status.
With a staying in a mental decay that wont go away,
Because of a fear someone will judge...
With an increasing dose of their undiagnosed anxieties,
Releasing their insanities to validate by those,
Already exposing to show their own 'abnormalities'.
To excuse when one of them has 'mysteriously' blown a fuse!
'He represents standards we value.
How could this ever happen? '
Uh...let's see.
Could it be...
Those standards we value?
'Naw.
Not here!
That's not a possibility.
Where can you honestly say,
You see the appearance of any flaws? '
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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8798.
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Mysteriously Released
As if hands greased,
Many are beginning to realize...
Lives they planned with schedules,
And priorities...
Slips freely from their grip,
To be mysteriously released.
Those with lists of preferences,
Are wishing they knew...
What the next five minutes will bring.
And everything that had been sacred,
No longer guarantees...
Once stable and dependable traditions,
To rely upon with a familiar singing.
As if hands greased,
Many are beginning to realize...
Lives they planned with schedules,
And priorities...
Slips freely from their grip,
To be mysteriously released.
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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8799.
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Mystery Hunt
The only game there is
In a place small enough to play it...
Is the one so completely obvious
Those involved are given clues,
To help them solve the puzzle!
Hopefully avoiding the need
To build additional prisons
And new schools few attend!
Especially for those who believe
The game being played is Mystery Hunt!
When there is no 'mystery' for those who see it!
And the hunt is barely a foot chase,
To catch a fleeing turtle!
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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8800.
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Myths Come To Wither
Myths come to wither.
With a beaming at dawn,
When the morning Sun arises.
And leaving nothing else to shine quite as bright...
As cloudy skies clear,
To widen the squinting of eyes.
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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