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Poems
This Is Going To Be A Long Ride
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

This Is Going To Be A Long Ride

Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

My observations are never premeditated.
With a plan to only accept that which I believe.
I experience a witnessing,
As a student willing to learn.
I take notes whether mental or written.
And free myself from regurgitating quotes,
To whisper into ears to then leave.

I'm not like that.

What I describe is viewed with my eyes.
And what I hear is seldom my own sentiments.
Although when I see something that should be clear,
But to others it is not as it appears...
I wonder when my delusions have ended.
And how many conscious aren't aware when they start.

I'm not like that either.

Could we all be confused,
And refuse to accept we've been abused and neglected...
By our own delusions?
Could we all be wishing what we witness isn't what it is.
To admit what is does exist without the benefit of our wishes?
Could my observations perceived as not being premeditated,
Be, in fact, a comforting of a trap...
My mind extends to enhance my comprehension?

Or...
Could I just be needing rest and have yet to confess,
I can use as much of it as I can get?

'Yes! '

I'm sorry.
I am having a personal self assessment.
Am I disturbing you?

'Yes.
I am hoping your 'self-assessment'...
Soon ends as to not to further prolong,
My 'already' too long bus ride.
But who knows...
Maybe I am confused AND deluded! '

I apologize.
I didn't realize I was speaking that loudly.

'No problem.
I do the same thing myself.
At home.
Alone.
When I'm seeking an intelligent conversation.'

Oh.
I agree with you.
This is going to be a long ride.

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