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Those who have prospered and profited from life's lottery have a moral obligation to share their good fortune.

quote by Dick Gephardt
Added by Lucian Velea
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Those Who Have Been Victims

Leave them to fight.
They will be clinging on to life...
Asking 'why' very soon.
Barbarians can do only one thing successfully.
Declare victory...
After total destruction,
And chaos has been determined.
It convinces them they created fire.
And the only purpose the Sun has...
Is to bronze their skins.
Ignoring those of natural color.
For fear insecurities will be exposed.
Leave them to fight.
They will be clinging on to life...
Asking 'why' very soon.
And those who have been victims,
Of their crimes...
Appear to be both deaf and blind,
To the sounds and sights of their screams.
Wondering...
Why do they point to the sky,
With frightened looks in their eyes?
Since all they see are angels,
Coming to make deliveries!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Are Those Who Have Known Daily Horrors

THERE ARE THOSE WHO HAVE KNOWN DAILY HORRORS

I have had a relatively easy life-
There are those who have known daily horrors
Beyond those any human being should ever have to imagine
I think of the last generation of survivors of the Shoah
Slowly dying out now
Taking with them their memories of loved ones murdered before their eyes
Of incredible tortures and cruelty
Of horrible partings and endless humiliations-

I think of these people my fellow Jews
And wonder why God allowed it to happen to them
And what it all means-

I certainly don't know-

I have had a relatively easy life
With of course my own griefs and sorrows and failings
But nothing at all like what they went through -

Oh God what is this whole thing about anyway?
And why did You let the Nazi Germans and their Austrian Polish Lithuanian Slovak Romanian Hungarian Dutch French helpers
Do it to them?

Why families with tens of members murdered
Why the children?
The incredible cruelties and humiliations and horrors
Why?

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Those who have been in the Grave the longest

922

Those who have been in the Grave the longest—
Those who begin Today—
Equally perish from our Practise—
Death is the other way—

Foot of the Bold did least attempt it—
It—is the White Exploit—
Once to achieve, annuls the power
Once to communicate—

poem by Emily Dickinson
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At The Expense Of Those Who Have Chosen To Deceive

An influence magnifies
By a deliberate undermining...
Of it noticed being diminished,
By those eventually become curious...
As to why restrictions has been placed upon it.

To allow with perceptions increased,
The misdeed done and not the influence achieved...
To get more of the attention than what is being mentioned.
And...
At the expense of those who have chosen to deceive.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Those Who Have Not Read

for those who have not read his work
he reminded them that he is the gadfly
that bit the complicated ass of Plato's cow

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement, and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness.

we are all blind
on wide awake eyes
we are the suns
that cannot see what
we lighted

we close in
those who have not
committed the crimes
we imagined

we are those who live
in the darkness
of our mid-noons

we are here
waiting for deliverance
we spin
around an orbit
that arrives
at no specific
destination

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Those who live in pairs

Those who live in pairs are marked by destiny,
happiness and love are their majesty.
From time immemorial up to the present time
It was a big grief and sorrow
for a woman to become a widow.
Without beloved one life is wrapped
and waits for unexpected meeting.
Even if your destiny is tart
it’s much better than lonely weeping.
Gold and diamonds will not please
if your heart is not caressed.
Your life will not be at ease
without your dearest.
Only those who were caressed and loved
were Madonnas and Eves.
And for the right to be beloved
the queens used to leave their thrones
living sometimes in the hovels.
That’s what we know from history and novels.
But they were happy and thanked our Lord
for giving them love as an award.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Those Who Truly Loved

they say that those who truly loved
have become so vulnerable, euphemistically speaking,
they have become so foolish to surrender everything

do you remember the lion king who had his sharp teeth removed
his claws cut and his roar suppressed? they say it was a fable
about love, and they say that the moral lesson of the story is
as simple as being so stupid about love and then be defeated
by the pretentious lover. Ouch! You're dead.

they say those who truly loved have become the characters of
the romantic movies, the famous figures of the opera house,
the unforgettable tragedies, the stigma, the catharsis of life.

today i am offering flowers for those who truly loved and offered
their lives. They are silent. They are dead.

Ask me. I am alive. I am not a pig.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poem For Those Who Are Sad

did Octavio say that happiness
and charm are cliches?
did he really mean that he
shall write about those who
labor in pain
about those who stopped
smiling because of the
harsh rain
about those who hide
because of the coming storm?

he could be right
not writing about the cliches of
happy days

for they have all enough
that make the sweet syrups
of their eating lives

let me write a poem for those
who are sad
for those who have less

let me write about the opening
of a flower
about the butterflies moving
out from their cocoons

let me write about the
end of the bitter days
for they have less and now

they may have more
through my lines

let me write about the
rising of the sun
the waking up of the boy
from his sleep
and the beginning
of his play on the yard
with his bike

let me write more
about what i really like...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Act of Inaction by Those who Are Powerless

Credit only needs to be given where its been proven.
Justification of how acquired is not necessary never has been.
The less fortunate, find it more fortunate to be less and know that they weren't responsible for the mess.
But their inaction is one and the same.
We can all point the finger and blame.
And live in shame.
Or fix it, imagine that claim to fame.
It's a sensation trying be sold everyday.
Do it my way, no do it my way.
In an argument of an agreement, neither have got the entire solution as a whole.
But its together in which it's deployed.
Each what they most desire.
But in a compromise of selfish deeds.
In which the loss of most important to be.
It fades and soon you no longer see.
What hides behind those clouds.
A shroud, to protect you from the wholesome truth.
In all the ugliness.
In all the craziness.
Self sustaining is just no longer possible.
Not in the face of denial by systematic trials of those who have and have not been proven.
So with one lost, comes one win.
Human suffering is where it all begins.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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This Comes to Those Who Loved to Pose Near Ghettos

An accustomed greed
Did not allow them to consolidate,
With those in need.
Those homeless without shelter.
And being depleted
As the greedy fed...
To feed and tease.

And they teased.
Requesting qualifications,
And deciding which among them
Would be pleased to be in their presence.
Instituting...
An awareness that divides,
By racist lines an intelligence may hide.
Groomed by standards that have been subpar...
Below that in some places.
And getting caught by the trappings,
Of low gutter bars.

'Are they the ones...
Experiencing a reversal that's begun? '

Dripping wet and running fast...
To escape a nightmare born on 'crack'.
This comes to those who loved to pose near ghettos.
In pictures to depict themselves above others.
And now they find themselves so below,
Feeling an absence of a glow once flaunted.
They can not be driven away from their pretensions.
Clutching the air for something to grasp.

And it hurts to know...
Someone wishes suicide,
Than to be by the side...
Of another human being.
One who has lived honestly.
And that fact in comparison demeans,
It seems.

And dreams lifted,
From behind the backs of those attacked...
Those who have been left...
Without possessions.
Medicate.
To keep a feeling of a worthless hollowness,
Defended to protect nonexisting interests owned.
Or turf to settle 'beefs' on streets...
Where they did not invest sense or time!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Who Find No Problem Telling It

People are not accustomed,
To hearing the truth.
Only varying versions of it told.
And when someone is bold enough,
To tell it like it is...
People become offensive.
It is a moment that comes,
That strips bare with no regard.
Truth stuns those who shun it!
And those who find it hard,
To accept truth for what it is...
Find those who have no problem telling it,
As negative!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If You Are Among Those Who See Things

There are those who are lost.
And there are those seeking clarity.
Some see those who are lost,
And seeking clarity.
Those are the ones ignored by all.
Since what they see,
No one wishes to admit.
But then again...
If you are among those who see things,
That have not happened yet...
You have to have more patience!
Just like the dawn awaiting to be enjoyed!
Some will know it exist.
Some will not come to realize it at all.
And there will be those still in argument,
About what happened to them yesterday.
Choosing to stay there and have it relived.
These are the folks left to wonder,
Why they are left alone!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Those Who Love To Live

Up jumped jack on the railroad track
Said Ive got to get out of town
Its been really nice knowing you
Hope to see you around
Oh the boy he could boogie
Oh the boy can kick a ball
But the boy he got hung up
Smooching in the stalls
Youve got to give a little love
To those who love to live
Youve got to take a little hate
From those who have to wait
Up jumped john putting his trousers on
Saying Ive got to get out of here
Hear your lovers footsteps
Theyre coming to near for me my dear
Oh the boy he could boogie
Oh the boy can kick a ball
But the boy he got hung up
Making love against the wall
Youve got to give a little love
To those who love to live
Youve got to take a little hate
From those who have to wait

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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For Those Who Brought That to Others

Everyone they can name is blamed,
For the decline of their fantasized existence.
They insist reality be stopped.
The affects of it keeps them seeking shelter.
As if truth is an illusion that offers escape.
The madness unwraps upon mattresses,
Where no sleeping takes place for them.
They find themselves disgraced!
And faces before them frowning...
Are those who have lost their passion,
To keep up false impressions.
It is difficult to have had...
And to see what was possessed,
Gone.
It is like leaving a masquerade ball for some.
And for many...
They just can not seem to leave at all.
It is hard to feel a pity for their sadness.
It is hard to find a sorrow,
For those who brought that to others.
And turned their backs...
Uncaring and feeling no remorse!
But then,
Of course...
God and the Deities do not like ugly deeds!
Not to self pleasure while others are in need.
This pendulum switch is now witnessed!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Recipients

They choose to be about nothing.
That's why they are about it!
It takes all their effort,
To get clothed to gossip.
With rollers in their hair,
And pushing strollers!

They choose to be recipients,
Of anything handed out and free.
For generations...
That's all they know their lives to be!
And the men?
Very few of them.
They never grow from being boys.
And become overjoyed...
To be sentenced to prison!
'There' everything is done for them!

Pawns belonging to an eroding society.

They choose to be about nothing.
And that is why they are about it!
And those who have kept them there,
To entertain their demented egos...
Get paid to display their own ignorance!
And the affect of this,
Has detrimental benefits!

Leaving them all to fight for their rights.
Even over blighted sites,
They fight without a hint of insight!
And it is all a struggle over nothing.
Since that is the kind of life 'dished'
That has been accepted!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Decide For Yourself

Who should be held accountable...
And responsible for the current global mess?

Eliminate those who are hungry,
And suffering from homelessness.

Eliminate the 'tryers'...
Who barely survive,
Living from paycheck to paycheck!

Eliminate those among the middle class,
Paying more than their share of taxes.

Eliminate the unborn...
Yet to face conflicts arising,
In unknown and divided environments!

Then listen to others with interest!
Those continuing to protect their selfish greed...
With an excess of protest!
Blaming everyone under the Sun.
Including those living overseas.

And after you have satisfied these questions...
Introducing any that may follow next?
Try to eliminate from your list,
Delusion that interfere...
With fantasies treasured you hold dear.

You can do this with limited unrest.
By looking from your window.
Or gazing down at your own doorstep.

Then ask yourself this...
'How much dirt lays near my own secured nest?
That I have overlooked that keeps it unswept? '

Maybe 'then' you will not be quick to criticize,
Others who speak out...
About losses diminished by a gluttony,
They can no longer accept with ambitions wished.

Perhaps you will then wake up to see...
Reality as it is!
A 'reality' that has been made to be!
And caring less about your isolated shock!
Or the quickness of breath,
Heaving from your chest!

And guess what?
The truth of it did not just arrive.
It has been there,
Rejected!
While you found the time...
To prioritize your life,
With disguised denying eyes!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For Those Who Really Love

and here it is
as a matter of today's reflection
after reading your poem
my friend,

that for those who love
asking what love is
is a superfluity

for those who love much and truly
they just do it
without so much asking
wordless and endless
a hug, a kiss, making love
feeding, giving,
all out reaching
patience immeasurable like an ocean
love without measure
on time undefined.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And, The Moral of This Story Is...

And,
The moral of this story is...
No matter what is done to improve your stride,
Your wish to achieve a success respected...
Will be considered a foolish move,
Amongst those who have lost direction.
As well as their sense of dignity.
Or a pride they have chosen to deny.

Any sign of decadence,
Has proven to be the choice...
Of those wishing to survive,
In a world that has become senseless!
Especially for the ones,
Believing themselves to be making forward movement.
And this they do,
As if 'right' is on their side!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ubiquitous

Being one who observes is a benefit.
Life is to be experienced and adventured,
To gain insight.

Many express no wish to stretch.
Finding a comfort in a daily sameness.
A routine that flows in a rotation.
And this for them is the best.

Being everywhere is also ridiculous.
Is it?
Is the mind 'that' tremendous?
Is it possible to comprehend,
From ubiquitous activities that see no end?

Those who achieve knowledge and wisdom,
From travels they mention...
Seem to be aware of everything.
And this is what experiencing means and brings.
At least lives and possibilities are being explored.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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