Quotes about slick, page 2
Slick Tricksters
Believing themselves to be equipped,
With a kind of wit that makes them slick...
They appear from nowhere,
Out from the woodwork...
To show their aging routines.
As if slick tricksters...
Assuming as they once did,
The ones they wish to 'do'...
Have no clue what they are up to!
And their immaturity they believe,
Is not in full view.
To once again...
Undermine and defame,
One's character to put to shame.
And these 'kids' masquerading as adults,
Are all over the place.
Be careful.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As They Convalesce
Aging slick cliquers...
With nothing to offer,
But times gone reminisced.
Living with delusions,
That 'their' ancestors were the best.
Because they left them with fantasies and myths,
And how to live lives with thief, deception...
And gluttonousness!
Aging slick cliquers...
Pooped from pecking.
And drying out with wrinkled skin.
Sharing chats about when they were young...
With pretensions kept they learned back then!
As they convalesce in resting homes,
And abandoned by their thoughtless, self centered
Racist taught and greedy children!
Those of lustful, crushing and fast evaporating values.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Broke and On Dope
Small time sugar daddies,
Riding in their aged caddies.
And sniff on remnants of coke.
Saying the diss but miss their weed.
And the times they are living in,
Wearing super fly brims and patent leather shoes...
They are finding it hard to cope.
And to pay the high cost of gin.
And in their baby mamas' hands they can not stroke with cash.
And these baby mamas know they will get not a dime,
From these spineless jokes who aint got no class.
And the baby mamas cry and cry and cry...
But...
Mama why?
Didn't you do this to live life slick?
That wasn't wise.
Mama why?
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Teflon-ed
Quick to shift,
A blame that sits.
On those who drift,
From being...
Held accountable.
They choose to say,
Their way is best.
Although they take,
More time to protest...
Another mess they manifest!
A love they have for dancing,
Around the bush.
So slick like oil oozing,
They refuse to look...
At the games they play.
Fast they run...
From mistakes initiated.
Mistakes by them repeated,
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dangerous Journey
To become fully awakened,
By consciousness...
Is a dangerous journey,
For anyone who begins their first steps...
Through the valley slick with pits,
Of ignorance.
And adorned with gleaming temptations.
It is less difficult,
If one's eyes were obstructed by blindness.
Than to have mind and eyes wide open.
Seen with unbelievable clarity...
Is everyone known and familiar,
Participating with wild abandonment.
And some thought to have been conscious.
And tested...
Will be one's faith, integrity and any held belief,
One's footsteps are placed with assured identity!
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ifs And Buts
You want me to believe in you.
In everything you may say and do.
But when you almost touch my trust...
There is something that you do,
That messes that up.
You do a slick sliding done on alibis.
Thinking I will stoop for duping.
And this you try!
I've had enough of ifs and buts.
Dressed and hidden behind a disguise.
You deceive me with increasing ease.
As if to do it is okay with me.
You expect me not to question at all,
Your whereabouts without a telephone call.
You deceive me with increasing ease.
As if to do it is okay with me.
You do a slick sliding done for fun.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shuffling Among the 'Nots
Shuffling among the 'nots'!
Those who have,
Can keep what they've got.
I like the nonchalants.
They seem to have...
Lots of moxie.
The 'haves' seem to shell out a lot.
All boxed in and slick like foxes.
The 'nots' don't mind downing shots.
From a bottle that's passed to a neighbor,
Who labors.
While the 'haves' always want to cop!
And sip champagne with caviar nonstop!
Shuffling among the 'nots'!
Those who have,
Can keep what they've got.
I like the nonchalants.
They seem to have...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shivering And Not Singing
Cold and freezing in low degrees,
Leaving people to turn up their collars.
Mittens, earmuffs and coats of fleece,
Leaving people to turn up their collars.
And breezes seem to hollar...
'Winter's here and will slick the streets.'
Leaving people to turn up their collars.
The snow is deep and boots are needed on feet,
Leaving people to turn up their collars.
And spending more to crank up that heat...
While wrapped in blankets,
And warm bed sheets.
Oh...
Shivering and not singing in their homes.
Shivering are many doing this alone.
Winter's here and will slick the streets.'
Leaving people to turn up their collars.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kickin' It With My Chick
'Hey dude,
Whatcha been up to? '
Just kickin' it with my chick.
Tryin' to make it.
And doin' my best not to be depressed,
During these economic times.
What about chu?
Whatchu been up to?
'More or less my game is the same.
Tryin' to maintain and ignore the pain.
And ain't tryin' to focus on what I ain't got.
But diggin' on what I have.
And glad about it.'
~And some folks ain't choking up with tears.
Doing what it is they gotta do.
And some folks may not wish to show their fears.
Knowing how to take life as it is.
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Down On Wriggle Crick
'Best time to kill a hog's when he's fat.' --Old Saw.
Mostly folks is law-abidin'
Down on Wriggle Crick--,
Seein' they's no Squire residin'
In our bailywick;
No grand juries, no suppeenies,
Ner no vested rights to pick
Out yer man, jerk up and jail ef
He's outragin' Wriggle Crick!
Wriggle Crick hain't got no lawin',
Ner no suits to beat;
Ner no court-house gee-and-hawin'
Like a County-seat;
Hain't no waitin' round fer verdick,
Ner non-gittin' witness-fees;
Ner no thiefs 'at gits 'new heain's,'
By some lawyer slick as grease!
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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