Accustomed To An Irrational Way Of Life
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
Especially when one's standing,
On debts owed.
Requires one to pay up,
For an out of control feasting to be paid.
As a 'sensible' way to pay for it with 'cash'.
Something demanded that one does not have.
And to state with a dignified presence,
That those awaiting to be paid for those losses generated.
Should be the ones already suffering,
From those mistakes made by those who fed at the feast.
To leave it in shambles,
And the ones left starving and homeless.
Are responsible and accountable to pay for a mess,
While those greedy keep.
Not only what they have hoarded,
But also the resources stuffed in their overflowing pockets.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
And
They have no intention to pay a cent,
For what has been spent.
To sustain their lofty positions,
Because they have been hypnotized.
On rights of their entitlements.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Is like introducing a reality never known.
Nor will that reality expressed be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Ending Of The Feast
How can one tell a people,
Accustomed to feasting...
The ending of the feast,
Approaches with the upcoming dawn?
And a living done 'within' their means,
Is in their future.
With no credit cards to own.
With a parking of their cars.
And a healthier way of life...
Showing a more discipline with fitness,
Shown.
Because all of their loan days,
With debits will be gone.
How can one tell a people,
Accustomed to feasting...
The ending of the feast,
Approaches with the upcoming dawn?
And they,
Will live on!
Or wont.
A change they can believe in.
With a reality to clearly breathe,
Comes.
And the singing of 'We Shall Overcome'
Will just be another song to sing.
As a process begins...
To fulfill a communal socialism,
On the horizon.
On the scene.
How can one tell a people,
Accustomed to feasting...
The ending of the feast,
Approaches with the upcoming dawn?
And they,
Will live on!
Or wont.
Leaving those humble and meek,
To inherit the Earth.
'Why so evil, dark and gloomy?
You're evil to wish that upon us! '
SNAP out of it!
The amusement park is closed!
I reference the Bible!
What...
Or should I say,
'WHO' supplies your observations?
And...
I'm evil?
Why?
Would it be because I do not cling,
Onto 'your' delusions?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Confronting Their Common Sense With Logic
To demand some people,
That they should be held morally responsible
And accountable to others...
Would be the equivalent of teaching hoodlums,
The value of learning to sing Broadway tunes...
To enhance their appreciation for humanity.
The thought is admirable.
But the reality of its implementation,
Does seem to be a bit Hollywoodish.
If people are not accustomed to being honest,
Or direct and upfront...
Confronting their common sense with logic,
Is likened to convincing those of greed at a feast...
To share their gluttony with those homeless and hungry.
This is not going to happen.
Unless...
Mother Nature steps in,
To reveal the leeches for the thieves they are.
And even then indignities to God,
Are spewed from their filthy mouths!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Him Credit For Something
He wants to damage our way of life...
And the economy!
He wants to frighten us with scare tactics.
With a bombardment of truths.
And we aren't accustomed to it!
He wants to inflict us with decisions,
Unlike any made before.
He wants to remove deceit and lies.
And expose us to reality.
To leave that at our front doors.
He dares to reveal an incompetent government.
He dares to be a leader...
Choosing to use common sense.
'Don't be so hard on him!
He has yet to say anything...
About taking away your delusions.
Those he wishes you to keep.
They have been excluded.
Give him credit for something! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Traumatic Has to Be the Reality Faced
Traumatic for many,
These days lived...
Has to be.
Especially for the ones who identified,
Their lives and self worth...
With the ability to purchase 'bling',
And other materialistic things.
With money that from them is dwindling.
Traumatic has to be the reality faced,
There is no substitute for truth that can be replaced.
Nor are there those empathetic,
Who have grown accustomed...
To finding their way on the streets to eat and sleep.
And yet those with beliefs they are above all of this,
Find themselves indebted to their beliefs...
They wish to keep.
And...
Traumatic for many,
These days lived...
Has to be.
For those who make demands as if...
Their lifestyles can be sustained,
By squeezing them...
From an economy based on credit.
That has exhausted all fantasies,
Once supporting a delusion...
There was no ending that came to a feeding of a feast.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Glitz, Glimmer and Rhinestone
For some reason,
Glitz, glimmer and rhinestone...
Seem to go together.
Like movies and TV.
And some people overheard in conversation.
If someone is in the need of costuming,
To enhance a 'theme'...
Or dress up to play 'make believe',
One would think people generally leave the 'real' stuff
Behind...
With an acknowledgement in their minds,
There is a time and a place that seperates fact...
From fiction.
And making long lasting impressions,
Requires one to be in touch with a bit of honesty.
At least the kind of honesty that is removed from gloss.
Unless...
Everyone has been in costume.
And those accustomed to being fake...
Take for granted,
That everything connected to life...
As they know life to be,
Has always been one they fantasized.
And lieing to oneself is accepted.
Since going through the motions is all one knows.
Isn't fake the new reality,
Today.
Even when the cameras are 'on'.
To catch what it is,
Being what it is!
Whatever 'What-it-is'...
Is!
And folks are being paid to...
Downgrade!
THAT is 'reality' for far too many people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wizards of Illusion
Common sense?
Those who are discovered with it,
Are rare.
And leaves those believing...
An ivy league school,
Is where one can get this.
At someone's foolish expense.
With a jealousy directed to a few...
Who obtain scholarships.
As if this promotes and bestows,
An advantage for others that does not exist.
But common sense goes unused,
Frequently...
By those trying to fit their feet...
In shoes too small,
And minds unprepared...
To explain how they are ever going to wear them!
And yet,
Many do manage to amaze shocked masses,
Who eventually become influenced by such trickery.
To the point where they find themselves,
Supporting such 'wizards' of illusion.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Shadow Of Life
My life is but a shadow.
I exist but in reality there is no me.
I am there because I am seen
I am seen and hence expected
But, there is no me.
If i disappear there would be no change
The same things would occur
I make no difference
It is not lonely.
It is more real than loneliness
A sense of lost.
A sense of no direction.
I fear that i am swallowed whole
Irrational.. if you are not I
A pitiful existence
From a pitiful man.
Words cannot console such thoughts
A mistake so many people make.
Only strength of my mind and spirit
Stand a mortal chance.
But I weaken.
The reckoning is due
When your worth is in question
Why should this wretch be saved.
I look for guidance
I look for reason
I look for love.
I find only my shadow.
But it's not really there. Is it? .
poem by Dave James
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Bridging A Gap
It is not those who are 'liberal'
Marketing decadence.
It is those who are in control of the media...
Who preach greed and a need,
To fear 'socialism'!
Hoping those unconscious...
Wish to end their own progress,
In heated debates that lack common sense.
Eliminating a feeding of gluttony,
That those rich feast upon in an exclusiveness.
To deny those in poverty,
With diminishing opportunities.
The rich know then,
They will not in deceit be able to get!
And a bridging of a gap between the 'haves' and 'have nots'!
Will spoil reasons there are arguments between...
Those 'liberal' minded,
And those who are conservative snots!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Middle Class
Between dire straits and meager existence,
There are those who insist...
They represent the middle class.
And doing the best they can to make ends meet,
While that gap is widening fast.
Exhausted from swimming in debts and credit.
And unable to afford the keeping up of appearances.
Although they support those standards they value...
Those that have given up such tasks,
Can not convince them their beliefs have been trashed.
Between dire straits and meager existence,
There are those who insist...
They represent the middle class.
And as they hold onto dreams quickly slipping away,
Deluded they remain that changes made aren't here to stay.
Between dire straits and meager existence,
There are those who insist...
They represent the middle class.
And even though the sight of this continues to be sad,
Few are heard left to brag about what they own...
That others do not have.
Today...
Those struggling to maintain their middle class status,
Have one thing in common with those who are poor...
Wishing they had just a few dollars more!
And a door they can close to ignore what's going on.
Those days are gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ideals Rusting From Distrustful Deeds
We're on the edge of a bottomless pit.
Those conflicted in transit opposition to this...
Can not be consciously aware,
Of the seriousness there!
The one selected and picked to lead,
Now seems overwhelmed by those wishing...
Actions he has taken does not succeed.
With arguments and ignorance intact...
Those accustomed to feeding their greed,
Insist they've come with prerequisites...
To have their selfish ideals succeed.
Even though economically,
Their pockets are being systematically emptied!
And many stand firm,
To have their interests proceed.
With ideals rusting from distrustful deeds.
But the one elected to prevent their demise...
Has warned them all witnessing,
They must now open their eyes.
And if they choose not to see reality...
He will use his influence,
To allow them all to experience the breeze...
Of a downward spiral coming to them quickly.
And he,
Will disregard their screams!
Since he and others who do believe...
Are not about to partake,
In the welcoming of their embraced failures.
Nor desires they wish to keep...
A blinding feast created by their deceit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Value of Your Delusions
Wishing a thing to exist.
And exclaiming to others that it does...
Does not bring it life.
It may bring it to lips quick.
But not to eyes.
And if any of it is used to deplete pockets...
Of resources earned.
Draining them with fear...
To stock your abundance of cash,
Invested on a gamble that has devastated...
Their standards and quality of life.
One had planned on living,
To retire into wholesome fantasies.
Many will begin to inflict the pain of revenge!
Unending for deceivers.
And nothing can be more realistic,
Than those on a rampage seeking it!
Prepare for this reality.
And...
You didn't hear that from me.
Remember,
You have already campaigned
To have me ignored.
You remember that don't you?
When I began questioning,
The value of your delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If The Surface For Them Did Not Exist
If the surface didn't exist,
Many wouldn't have a thought to cling to.
Many wouldn't know,
Which gossip heard was true.
If the surface for them did not exist.
If the surface didn't exist,
The many dependent on having lives not their own...
Would be lost without being told what to do.
Many absolutely would not have a clue...
How to find their way around,
Without following in someone's footsteps.
If the surface they sniffed did not exist.
And if the surface for them did not exist...
They would not be able to sit alone,
Doing something completely on their own...
And appreciating life,
With the minding of their own business.
If...
The surface for many did not exist,
It would be taumatic for them to seek a thought process.
Many would not know where or how to begin.
So many are accustomed to living lives that are shallow.
With an ability only to identify with that...
Which is supplied and arrives to them surfacely.
Even a dog sniffing tries to find a place to bury a bone.
And doing that alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without Intercepting With Attempts
To say that something had been known.
Prior to it affecting with dire results manifested.
To sit and have this pondered...
As a study of it was being done to process its effectiveness?
And how it would be digested in its detriment?
By those affected when it is infested!
Without intercepting with attempts,
To deflect the devastating onslaught that could exist?
Is purely someone's negligence and neglected expressed BS!
And further confirms,
The heightened acceptance...
Of approved incompetence!
Since no one with 'validated' common sense,
Would admit they are this ignorant!
Unless people had grown accustomed,
To dancing with it in comfort!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With A Twist Of Forbidden Truth
As if flashes of light,
These days come to pass so fast.
And those hanging onto vivid memories,
Of times that are gone...
With a taking of them family and friends,
That from 'this' world have moved on...
Seems as if the life we live,
Is just a dream in the scheme of things.
And here we are...
Illusioned by myths.
And other fantastic historic tales to tell,
About an existence left mostly to interpretation.
To sweeten imaginations with the calling of it reality.
But how much of it really is...
Reality?
And to 'whom' do we credit our perceptions?
And at what price have those paid to distort the truth?
Or...
Could it be a possibility,
We are already in the midst of that being witnessed?
As it is being described as a re-focusing of purpose.
With a twist of forbidden truth broadening the minds,
Of those wisening with wider eyes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Closest Relatives
People hypnotized and transfixed,
Have grown more accustomed
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
So accustomed to myths,
People are.
And the praying to what is believed,
To what has been embedded
In their minds,
Exists.
People do not wish to be told,
About the thought process of Nature.
And how that goes.
Or about Earth and Mother Nature.
The relationship between them.
How that works and what they know.
People wish and desire to accept,
They are more powerful
Than that which 'allowed' them life,
And gave to them breath.
People reject with a dismissing of this,
That which gifted them and permitted their lives.
People have grown more accustomed,
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
Yet,
Give zero respect to their closest relatives.
The Sun, The Moon
And how together,
They affect their lives lived here on Earth.
People have chosen to become accustomed,
To ignoring as if they do not hear or listen.
Or are aware of them with comprehension.
People choose not to accept this as is.
People choose to believe from that which exist,
They are not born from it.
People choose for themselves to believe,
For them
There is no connection to perceive.
Even though what is they can not conceive,
Flows through their veins and bleeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Splashed With A Little Lemon
The slow process of leaking truth,
Has finally begun.
Sweetened lives,
Splashed with a little lemon...
Will leave those accustomed,
To munching their milk and cookies...
With less fun in the stunning days to come.
Those surviving on the streets,
Will just be more familiarized with them...
As they are sought to give tours,
To those shocked into reality.
And those deluded by their pretentions?
Are stuck in mindsets trying to convince,
Someone, anyone...their point of view makes sense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Total Upheaval to Fantasized Beliefs
What is going on?
A reality refused existence.
And an overwhelming presence of it,
No longer given the option of being deluded...
By those who excused the inclusion of it.
What is going on?
The blatant attacks on deceit, lies and corruption.
A disruption of the lives of thieves and their alibis.
And an exposure to their incompetent influence.
What is going on?
A total upheaval of fantasized beliefs.
And the creaking sounds of sneaking creeps,
Attempting to leave the scene of their crimes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mind Fed Rituals
When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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