The truth is lived, not taught.
quote by Hermann Hesse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was The One
(words & music by schroeder - demetruis - blair - peppers)
I was the one who taught her to kiss
The way that she kisses you now.
And you know the way she touches your cheek,
Well, I taught her how.
I was the one who taught her to cry
When she wants you under her spell.
The sight of her tears drives you out of your mind,
I taught her so well.
And then one day
I had my love as perfect as could be.
She lived, she loved, she laughed, she cried,
And it was all for me.
Ill never know who taught her to lie.
Now that its over and done,
Who learned the lesson when she broke my heart?
I was the one.
And then one day
I had my love as perfect as could be.
She lived, she loved, she laughed, she cried,
And it was all for me.
Ill never know who taught her to lie.
Now that its over and done,
Who learned the lesson when she broke my heart?
I was the one.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crowded With Lies
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind crowded with lies.
A progressive mindset,
Has been stunted because of this.
Dismissed are those who wish for reality.
And often they are labelled mavericks.
Or something less flattering,
To ensure their influence has no chance to exist.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And yet those disillusioned,
Pray on Sunday...
To have their lives fixed.
While listening to sermons,
As to how sins and evil have them bewitched.
Their very lives lived are confused in conflicts.
Although truth for many has become feared,
And resisted.
Observed they are...
Bewildered, bothered and betwixted.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
And there is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And the marketing of fresh lies...
Is a mainstay in most societies,
That has thrived and survived successfully!
But a continuation of a success like this,
Does not sustain its permanence.
Eventually a strain draining the brain prevents it.
People everywhere and everyday,
Reflect their lack of consciousness.
And revealing a 'craze' that has become accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dad Never Taught Me
Dad never taught me how to curse
And he never told us to gamble
He always warned cigarettes are worst
And never to waste food on the table.
Dad never taught us how to be idle
He was always a hardworking man at best
Taught us how to be responsible
And to face with Courage every test.
My Dad was not perfect but he taught well
I think that's the best he could leave
The lesson in life that really spell
How truly successful is a life well lived.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Felt Inside, Known And Not Hiding
Wholesome expressions delivered,
May be great to hear from podiums raised...
By those speaking from prepared speeches.
To have those listening needing a boost,
With a lifting done coming from roaring cheers.
There is a truth that is lived,
And inescapable it is.
For those who know it is not in disguise,
To eliminate or compromise...
What is felt inside, known and not hiding.
A truth that is lived,
Isn't waiting for the next speech heard.
Or standing in line,
To select from a multitude of choices offered.
A truth lived and once picked becomes one's commitment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sad But The Truth Is On
There are too many bold,
Sad but the truth is on.
And too may all-knowing for their teachers.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they say their teachers can't teach,
Or read, or write to them...
On their lowered levels.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Many never knew about a hug to touch.
Sad but the truth is on.
There's just too many needing loving.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they don't believe a lesson taught to them,
Reveals and begins to grow to show.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad about the truth!
The truth for so many has gone.
It's so sad to see it...
Nonexisting.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's sad about the truth,
Today!
For so many that truth is gone.
It's so sad today...
That,
People sit back to watch it too!
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
'Cause nothing in the air is fair there!
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Never Burn a Bridge That Has Been Easily Given
You've lost your job and home,
The respect of your spouse...
And now your kids roam,
All over the place with hoodlums.
Since they wish not to be alone.
And I am quite surprised you've come to me.
I've lived for years on a fixed income.
And my life is lived basic and happily.
You told me once I had a life you could not live.
So glad I am blessed to have it...
And sorry to learn your life is the way it is.
I am sure there will be many lessons,
You will come to learn.
There was one you taught me yourself.
Never burn a bridge that has been easily given.
Especially one you did not earn.
And constructed just for you to cross.
Since one never knows,
When the desire to cross it again will be yearned.
But a connection has been lost.
'That's a lesson I taught to you?
I don't recall saying that.'
You don't have to!
It was my lesson.
And you were there like you are right now,
To keep it fresh as if just taught.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth Through Repetition
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
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gh repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth throu
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repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
epetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through r
petition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through re
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tition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repe
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tion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repeti
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n Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetitio
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiion
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
ruth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition T
uth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tr
th through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tru
h through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Trut
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
poem by David Keig
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We shall never understand the ethical system taught by Jesus unless we realize that he was a Jew, not only by birth, but that he lived and taught as a Jew; the Sermon on the Mount was addressed to his distracted fellow nationals.
quote by Arthur Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(V - 2009) The Truth of the Truth
The Sages and Seers
That be and have been
Cannot have seen
The truth of the Truth!
What they see as Truth
Is Truth merely
It’s not really
The truth of the Truth!
The Ultimate Truth
Cannot be known
We aren’t that grown –
The truth of the Truth!
We’re part of the Truth
We’re trying to see
We’re yet so tiny –
The truth of the Truth!
Though hard and great
The pains we give
We cannot outlive
The truth of the Truth!
What’s Truth to you once
Remains not the same
So changing the game –
The truth of the Truth!
What’s Truth to a man
Is not Truth to all
That’s what we call
The truth of the Truth!
These thoughts as I pen
It’s Truth to me
It’s to me only
The truth of the Truth!
Insignificant
Whether they were told what to believe...
Or made to conceive it or not!
They were never challenged on their own,
To know!
To seek for themselves,
What was or was not real.
And taught to reject,
From mindsets accepted...
To disregard anything,
That conflicted with a truth...
A life lived to them would bring.
There is a comfort they have with deceit.
And all that is connected,
With the absence of truth.
Whether they were told what to believe...
Or made to conceive it or not!
It was easy to keep them feeling,
Insignificant!
And to use them to deplete,
Of their resources...
That made them look weak,
Helpless, hopeless and appearing needy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Which Is Which
> To beware of the truth.
> Is truth...it, self?
> So, what is truth?
>
> Is truth, true love?
> Or...just a reality?
> To be a man...is that truth?
>
> A man...is reality.
> A woman...is reality.
> To be woman...is that truth?
>
> To have more then one partner
> Is a reality of the world.
>
> Which this world agrees.
> Truth is; in my point of view
> Is what one claims to be truth.
>
> But, the truth is whatever you
> Are doing as I speak.
> A woman is good for the soul.
>
> That truth is very bold.
> A man lives for his manhood
> So I am told.
>
> Is it truth or reality?
> Respect is in the middle of the spectrum.
> Male vs. Female
>
>
> That is truth.
> Man being woman
> A reality.
>
> Woman being man...
> She tries.
> Respect cover both the unreal and the wise.
>
> Truth or reality...we never really
> Give it much thought.
> Maybe it was the way we are taught.
>
> Truth or reality...
> Which is Which?
>
>
> whisperkwane
>
> [email protected]
>
>
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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It is Inevitable
Accepted or not.
Deceived or manipulated,
To replace it with dishonesty.
Truth.
When it is revealed,
Can no longer be concealed.
Or interpreted for something it is not.
And regretting not to have embraced it,
When that opportunity comes.
To have it faced,
Does not change the integrity of those
Who have known and lived the truth.
When opposition displays its evil.
Although,
Those who have based their lives.
On lies told as they lived,
Are the ones haunted by their misdeeds.
Observed as seen.
Leaving truth shown to be spoken and known,
Eventually winning all battles!
It is inevitable that an evil is chased away.
Once the masquerading of it has been exposed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sacrifice not the truth
Not to thy lips
Sacrifice not the truth
To thy brute egotism
Not to thy heart
Sacrifice not the truth
To thy vengeful ill logic
Not to thy spirit
Sacrifice not the truth
To the baneful intentions
Not to thy soul
Sacrifice not the truth
To the sharp arrows of thy lies
Love the truth
Where you are the truth
Shall be your sister
And thy loving companion
The truth you love to tell
Will stand by you will
Forgive you readily without
Hurt and set you free to enjoy
Your truthful honest lived life
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Here Lie's The truth
“Here Lies the truth”,
On Her tombstone this will be wrote.
It was never spoke when She was living,
So also in death, it will be unspoke.
By Her it was never said
it was as though pulling out Her soul,
So here lies the truth and herself dead
Both has died in sadness and woe.
Here lies the truth,
Not once by her was it cried,
Not in the days that she was living,
Not even in the day that She had died.
She must of believed that it was a sin
To open Her heart and listen to the word
So She closed her heart and locked it shut,
And She never believed in no one but Her.
Here lies the truth,
It lived but a very short life,
Though the Woman died of years of age
The truth though, never had a chance to try.
Everyone She knew had learned Her lie
They never believed a word that she said
So when She finally tried to speak the truth,
Her heart stopped; and She laid dead.
Here lies the truth
It lived but a very short life,
It was loved by neither Child or Man,
For they believe its living was but a lie.
So here in the grave it will lay dead
As it had lived in this woman's soul,
Never again will it be uttered or thought of,
Never till the end of time will it be thought of or known.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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It could be for C.P Sharma
We search for truth but would we know
if our quest met with success
Perhaps truth changes as we grow.
We can’t be sure so we must guess.
Maybe there is no absolute
unchanging truth that’s permanent.
So we adopt beliefs to suit
whatever seems convenient
That’s fits in with what we think we know.
Because we fail to recognise
What we’ve been taught my not be so.
Though in due course we realise.
The quest fir truth which we pursue
would seem to be man’s destiny.
Its something we were born to do.
To search for truth continually
Although it seems illogical
I offer you this theory
The truth is something personal.
My truth only applies to me.
Your truth is only true for you.
It’s just another theory
I have no way to prove it true.
although it could be possibly.
26/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Remember That?
Tell me
the truth
remember that?
We used to live by it.
And you know
what's so good about the truth?
Everyone knows what it is
however long they've lived
without it.
No one forgets
the truth
they just
get better at lying
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What are you teaching truth or propaganda?
Smoke clouding the sanity
Sounds twisting the morality
Of the hopeful minds
Of the altering youth
The youth
That is taught to hate
Taught to believe what you tell them
Taught that difference is incorrect
That being unique is a curse
Yes we not taught racism
Or sexism or even nationalism
But we are taught that we are the same
That we in actual fact are not equal
We are taught through hierarchy
We are taught that some are higher and lower
Taught that we are wrong unless supported
You twist our minds with scores
You teach us with systems
Of merits demerits
Money and career placement
How can you judge character on a paper
How can you know what lies beneath
When it is written in a 2d image
How can you know that it's from the heart?
Would you ever understand?
That life is experience
Not observation and documents
Anyone can exist on paper
But what about in reality
What do you consider reality?
Numbers typed in a computer
That you are only worth what you offer
No reality is
That there is no right or wrong
That life is cruel
That the only way to survive
Is through the system
That in factual truth we are all equal
That there is no black or white
Only grey.
poem by Courtenay Maree
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An Epitaph
I've lived a rather careless life,
And many a fault have I;
But I'd have you not stress the strife
What time I come to die.
I'd rather have you talk about
My qualities humane;
As one who cut the rough stuff out,
And has not lived in vain.
So, when you seek to laud my worth,
Write this - let truth prevail:
'He lived for many years on earth,
Yet never killed a whale.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The King [ I ]
AMONG the sons of Englishmen
Full many feel like real tears,
For, though he reigned but scarcely ten,
He bore the burden many years.
He lived the dead past doubly down,
He shamed, by manliness and truth,
The lies that beat about a crown,
And round a known man in his youth.
For he had lived as men have done
Since Adam’s time, to prove them true.
He proved it in his manhood’s prime,
And to the end, as strong men do.
And so he died, and, ever since,
And on through years the words shall ring:
“He lived a man, he lived a prince,
And died a gentleman and King.”
Unto the friends of his hot youth,
In his wise age, he still was true.
He showed, by steadfastness and truth,
What kings as well as men can do;
Till all was manlike or forgot,
Long years ere he found his release;
He made them loyal who were not,
He won respect, and kept the peace.
poem by Henry Lawson
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As a child I was taught that to tell the truth was often painful. As an adult I have learned that not to tell the truth is more painful, and that the fear of telling the truth — whatever the truth may be — that fear is the most painful sensation of a moral life.
quote by June Jordan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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