Addictions Enslave
Rhythmic is the slowing down,
Of a once vibrant existence.
Limits placed upon an isolated consciousness...
Is set for all to witness a diminished outlook,
That comes.
This process has been progressing,
As a quality of life digresses...
In disrespecting acceptance.
They have been pimped.
Used as unchanged doormats.
Hoping if they kept lips tucked shut...
They would be bestowed and blessed,
With materialistic wishes for the rest of their lives.
They believed lies even delivered from their priests.
They had to keep and maintain a 'presence'.
Wishing never to ever see themselves as peasants.
And using every trick to pull to thrive on ignorance.
On bended knees they plead,
For a restoration of a gluttonous quality of life to return.
And finally they have received their wish!
An existence completed by greed that leaves them,
With backs burdened with stacked unhappiness.
Stunned by the stinging.
And pawns of a perfected deceit.
To get all of them to believe...
If they were in debt,
At least they would feel more patriotic.
Products of a medicated psychoticness.
And disposable with each available excuse made...
To have them disregard their investments,
Placed upon a valued sense of what and who they are.
Or were...
At this point!
And the vanishing need to keep feeding the marketing of fear.
A commodity used to fill the pockets of their abusers.
'Whew...
I'm glad you're done.
All you had to say was 'addictions enslave'.'
Yeah...
But 'where' is the flair in that?
There is no subjugation that devours its victims!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Stop Trying to Find the Logic in Everything
The trouble with people feeding their greed,
And perceiving their feeding to hoard
To be an eternal process,
For themselves to be kept stored.
With no one else to profit from a process,
Not stopped.
Is...
Well,
One day to be revealed as preventable.
Even their selfish deeds must come to an end.
Whether or not...
They believe what has been available,
Has been diminished without the consciousness
Of their active input,
To keep what is missing their responsibilty
To nourish the flourishing that is obviously,
Absent from their purpose.
And those who live just to feed their greed,
Do not realize they place themselves in jeopardy.
Although they are not aware of this
Behind walls of a blocked isolation.
Perceived from a direction of its inception
To be an envied way a life.
Needing at their own expense to protect.
Even if that expense is aided by depending
On the discreet and secret borrowing from others.
'I thought you said 'they' were our enemies?
Them and they and those others? '
Who cares?
What is more important?
Impressing with our pretentions
Or being honest with ourselves?
'None of it makes any sense.'
When did the feeding of one's greed,
Ever made any sense?
Hmmm?
It is a standard that is valued.
We thrive on our pretentions!
Remember that.
Stop trying to find logic in everything.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cheapness Fed the Greed
A cheapness fed the greed.
Until the addictions of those greedy soared.
Few predicted the cheapness would increase...
And left the price of it ignored.
Without a noticable decrease.
As those who produced the cheapness knew...
Demand for what they had would grow.
They made the price for this commodity more expensive.
And watched those of greed,
Plead to lower a cheapness known...
When a quality of life loved and overblown,
Would eventually have them all on their knees in groans!
To suffer like passengers riding tightly in the backseat...
Enjoying the view.
But unaware of what those saw coming towards them,
From the front!
A gaping hole would swallow them.
One they did not wish to confront!
However...
A cheapness fed the greed.
Until the addictions of those greedy soared.
Few predicted the cheapness would increase...
And left the price of it ignored.
Without a noticable decrease.
And all of those riding feasted...
Until an abrupt detoxing came to stop them.
To leave them in pain from cheap feeding.
With wishes to heal from it quickly.
But this expense they could not afford.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Defend Its Application
I awakened this morning...
Not with the War on Terriorism on my mind,
But the War on My Quality of Life.
The War on My Liberties
The War on the Economy
And The War on Consciousness!
And it seems that very few are in the trenches,
Fighting these battles.
As what's left to democracy is being hocked away.
And the hoax of this joke is played on the people!
Who are encouraged to witness,
Their quality of life diminish!
I see no one dressed in combat gear,
Fighting against urban ignorance.
I see no defense against deceit and corruption.
Or legalized government theft.
Creating deeper debt.
But I am told to pray!
By those who 'prey' upon my goodwill!
And attempt to steal my comprehension...
By pretending to be offended that I speak out,
Against their acceptance of these social crimes!
And...
I am given looks as if I have lost my mind!
And today I am beginning to wonder.
What do I cherish most...
My common sense with integrity?
Or my privacy protecting it?
Some say others are not patriotic,
Because they do not accept this nonsense!
Have we arrive at the Twilight Zone?
With no welcome committee to greet?
OR tour the bizarre?
I don't mean to sound sarcastic...
However,
Too many have been slipped some tainted crack...
OR this 'normalcy' believed to be justisfied,
Needs a complete overhaul of 'reality'!
Since what is being accepted,
Is blistering ignorance inflicted!
And people don't believe they are the cause.
Who elected 'whom' to represent them and their 'interests'?
I think that was more like cynicism.
Don't you?
Well...
It was Franklin Delano Roosevelt,
The 32nd President of these United States who did say...
And I quote, '...those cynical men who say that democracy
cannot be honest and efficient.'
F.D.R. meant well.
Let's face it...
At one point in our lives we all had fantasies,
Of one kind or another!
And he was president for twelve years!
But times have vastly change since the corrupted '30's!
The visuals of special effects have greatly improved.
And deceit now has a manicured appearance.
And this team 'they' have in there now...
To represent their causes,
Couldn't wait to destroy everything of 'myth' that is valued!
They've taken the meaning of incompetence,
To a whole different level.
'Honesty and efficiency' are not choice words,
In their vocabulary.
Maybe 'shaft' 'hoodwink' 'bling' and 'gangsta'...
Are expressions tossed about by these morons!
No one could possibly recreate this kind of treason.
And get people addicted to their own self destruction?
As the people who put them in these positions...
Watch this?
You can call me anything you want!
But they can keep 'that' to themselves.
Whatever drug those folks are on,
Has damaged their brain cells.
And they defend its application...
Like an addict in denial,
Of obvious symptoms of abuse observed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bitter Is The Taste Left On Tongues
Had he not destroyed the lives,
Of millions of people...
With deceit and lies.
And arrogant displays of ignorance.
Something he now says...
May have made some empathetic sense.
He was the first to say there was no recession.
Now he wishes to make claims,
That was inherited.
He lead conservative ideals,
To ruin and deplete a robust economy.
And not a word did he listen to others.
Preferring to succeed...
From a position of egotistic needs.
A forgiving people hear and see this.
With grateful wishes,
He and his corrupted followers...
Can not leave soon enough.
To begin a healing...
That will take decades for those who suffer,
To feel and believe!
With few expressing an energy left,
With a smile to lift!
Isolated greed and wholesome stupidity...
Will leave a bitter taste on tongues for years.
As those most affected by the depth of crimes condoned...
Will realize their quality of life once the pride on Earth,
Had been miraculously erased...
By a leadership with no remorse at all,
To ever be shown or known!
Demons in motion...
Are not attached to these emotions.
And bitter is the taste left on tongues...
For what to them has been consciously done!
Tricked by the wicked.
And made sick...
Are they to their stomachs.
To know this feeling is made real.
As it exists,
For them to feel!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
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Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Demographics had established,
The success and conditions...
Of a targeted marketing.
To direct effective hype,
Among those selected to be chosen.
Those days have faded away,
From the land of steady habits.
And drift as nomads depleted of funds,
Are those unable to repay for a credited feasting done.
And elimination of debits wished,
Increase and do not leave.
So those rush away in the kicking up of dust...
With tears from their eyes drippimg as they weep.
Recap:
Those enforced to be meek and weak,
Are solicited to exhaust their kept treasures.
In the hopes of prolonging,
The ones addicted to feeding themselves selfishly.
Recap:
Conditions for optimistic change gone ignored has past.
This can not be restored to those celebrating,
In the hopes to inflict upon others their will.
Closed are those doors.
Recap:
The ones found designing deceitful traps,
Have become entrapped.
Their ways have not a dividend saved...
For them to expect a profit that is returned.
Recap:
Within their own borders...
They become crazed!
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Diminished to limits.
Recap:
But a tired retreading,
Just wont allow that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Do Whatever It Is You Wish
What you are trying to save,
Has already diminished in quality.
Whatever it is you are hoping to gain,
Has lost from you any integrity.
It is not about a disrespect anymore.
Or any signs I await to see...
What is prioritized in your life,
You'd like for me to believe.
What you are trying to save,
Has already diminished in quality.
Whatever it is you are hoping to gain,
Has lost from you any integrity.
Do whatever it is you wish!
But you have already revealed...
You are without a consciousness,
Of my wellbeing.
Do whatever it is you wish.
You have validated a selfishness,
That will never again,
Receive a respect from me to give.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where Has That Quality Of Life Gone Today?
Those that grow old but not 'up',
Live lives in recycled patterns.
A process that benefits routine...
Within set limitations,
That have come to demean common sense.
Those living to break away from those 'molds',
Had been referred to as nonconformists at one time.
Now the 'mavericks' have replaced them,
With no concern for the quality of life.
And when nonconformists were shunned...
They sought a better way of life for everyone.
And many attempted to do this,
Without the purchasing and selling...
Of illegal weapons such as guns.
And where has that quality of life gone today?
To the pleading of the needs of those greedy...
Who have left that quality of life stray,
Into corrupted decay.
With other 'necessities' politically and religiously valued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Demanded For All As a Cleansing
To sit and claim
He does not know 'why'
There are economic failures.
Magnified beyond belief!
And he and his administration,
Were the catalyst for the cause of them.
Says much more
About those who live in denial with incompetence.
And their deeds need not to be further questioned!
Nor can it be expected,
They are capable of providing relief.
If what is not obvious,
With this mix of leadership...
That still has those wondering who 'is' and 'is not'
Mentally equipped,
To recognize their comprehension limits!
Then we all should re-evaluate our fantasies.
And replace them quick!
With enforced and scheduled psychiatric visits!
Demanded for all as a cleansing to heal.
This kind of isolated greed one feeds...
Is from birth.
An indoctrination done,
That follows them throughout their lives.
Never to be for them to examine 'internally'.
Or consciously with an empathy to ever be revealed.
This is not a process of their conditioning.
Greed, theft and excessiveness...
Is for them lives lived to possess from others,
To obtain their success with skills of suppressiveness.
Digested as a quality of life one must protect.
To sustain and maintain their 'interests' at best,
To reflect themselves on levels of greatness.
'Hey...
This rambles! '
And...
What is your point?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Delivered To A Place That Dispenses Wings
Let's not carry on our backs,
Accepted agonies anticipated.
Let's take steps to rid ourselves,
Of those deficiencies...
We were led to believe,
Were birth marks to confirm...
As inspected.
And told they'd be there with us,
For the rest of our lives.
With a tolerance of them...
While others kept us suppressed.
As we continue to solicit,
A disrespecting done of our identities.
There is a need to awaken,
From this mental disease.
Let's not carry on our backs,
Accepted agonies anticipated.
Let's take steps to rid ourselves,
Of those deficiencies...
We were led to believe,
Were birth marks to confirm...
As inspected.
Well...
They are not,
Brandings of birth marks.
They are implications we kept...
With an expectation,
That one day if we stayed praying...
We would be delivered to a place,
That dispenses wings!
Dieing is a process!
Living the gift of life is a determination...
Some have refused to do,
Without the approval of acceptance.
From those sought to impress.
And if anyone has a need to ask,
To live a life that has been divinely given...
A praying done,
Is an unconscious routine.
Much like feeding an expectation,
That does not with 'intention' connect to the 'source'...
Through the doing of the process of living one's life!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innuendoed to Convince
Fear not being completely honest,
In an atmosphere reeking of deceit.
You...
Of those wholesome sensibilities!
Eventually your intergrity will be identified.
And those who lived their lives mystified by lies...
Will discover their decay.
Deluded and fantasized.
Teased by sweets and compromised.
But has delivered no long lasting peace.
With wishes they had turned away,
From a hollowness enjoyed each day.
Sought on a daily basis.
Preferring a more solid existence employed.
At least one less pretensed.
Or one wished had been less annoying!
And lived to prevent from being destroyed.
By threats of terrorists or homophobic racists!
Since one day they will come to realize,
Their own lives lived...
For them nearing the end,
Has made no sense to defend.
With a rumored conscious intention.
Innuendoed to convince,
A fulfillment of some kind has taken place.
Even at the expense,
Of their sheltered and isolated misunderstandings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Turning Backs Away With Shut Lips
There is a campaign that permits,
Denying truth an existence.
And if allowed to continue...
Threatens a valued humanness.
Blinded in stubbornness,
Our very presence will become dismissed.
Finding no refuge in silence...
Nor an ignorance lifted into eternal bliss.
And turning backs away with shut lips,
Has created today's array of conflicts.
In a convenience so many have come to enjoy...
Unapposed and unrestricted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A special child is a special One
thank you for giving me the light in this world...... when
you shared to me the life, that the Lord bestowed and
blessed, you deserve that gift, to have a special one
thank you for the fruit of love..... your lives fulfill the
purpose of creation, your unending steadfast care lifts
me up to survive, amidst the uncertainty of life
thank you for being there..... when I needed you most,
you are always in my side, pushing me to face all
adversity, though I exist with no fear in my heart
thank you that you let me taste and experience..... what
is life with you, our memories always linger in my heart,
even though that meaningful happiness is off valued and
something special to me
thank you dear someone..... your presence is giving
me the strength to stay alive, this is the life I live, my world
is different from you, and I have to stay in order to live and
survive
thank you for accepting and letting me go..... beyond your
limit for you don't know where I will go, this dream that I
take is only, me can reach, a place where nobody knows
thank you for helping and making me to achieve, with my
own volition to know more of myself..... hoping the best of
everything on me, and believing that I might see the
meaning of my existence for the destiny I made is the
destiny I live.....this maybe the end of why, I am living in
this world with you dear someone
thank you that in my journey in this life..... you are with me
surfing every pieces of puzzle of who am I in this creation,
a creation that everyone is free, a creation that I am a part
and I exist, a destiny to move on and a place I live today
thank you..... for believing me even in your heart, thou you
didn't see what........ I believed, just always remember that
the life I share in every moment I've take. lives with you
forever and it is beyond your own imagination for the
world I live..... lives.....only in every man's heart that is free
' do not see them as how they think and look, but see
them as what you feel '
poem by Antonio Liao
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Am I Less Patriotic
Am I less patriotic,
If I choose not to embrace...
Conservative values,
With a more broadened view...
That may be idealistic,
With equality issues I pursue.
Am I less patriotic,
If those who are hypocrites annoy?
The ones with their self righteous political opinions.
Those who influence lawmakers to consider and employ.
Am I less patriotic,
If I am bothered by illegitimate conflicts.
Those that depict one class of people,
As being worthy to indulge...
In the feeding done of their own interests.
Am I less patriotic,
If I wish hunger and homelessness...
From all made to suffer from this,
Was erased from them and did not exist?
Am I less patriotic,
If I chose to express my feelings about it?
And am I less patriotic...
If I refuse to inflict upon another pain,
With a taking away from them...
To benefit my own selfish claims to gain.
Am I less patriotic,
If my ambitions are to sustain and maintain...
A peaceful co-existence,
Between those who have chosen to benefit...
Appreciating their lives as they wish.
Without being oppressed by those who infest...
With a manifestation to control with a beholding?
Taking away from others as if...
They were entitled to do this!
Am I less patriotic?
Or am I just another delusioned human being?
Wishing all differences,
Were accepted or not demeaned to maim.
Or disrespected to be considered obscene.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Knowing My Consciousness Is Being Address
What has been the affect of my blessings?
I suppose it is the peace of mind I find.
And being inquisitive about life,
Has never been treated by me as a commodity
I awaken fascinated.
I imagine myself floating through space,
With an awareness of no boundaries.
Or limitations of any kind taken place.
And when I finally come down to Earth...
I'm reminded how blind and insensitive,
The feeding of greed...
Has left the majority of people to believe,
The Universe is not an 'entity' that knows and breathes...
Every detail of their existence.
The tremendousness of this Supreme Majesticness,
Has to know!
What has been the affect of my blessings?
Knowing my consciousness is being address,
By a power too great for me to envision.
But from 'IT' I get a sense of approval.
And from 'IT' I get a motivation that keeps me devoted.
And from 'IT' I get immediate feedback....
From millions of years,
Servicing wisdoms far greater than my own limitation.
That has been the affect,
Of acknowledging I've been blessed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Need to Write This Stuff Down
The state of all quality of life,
Has weakened in the face of greed...
Isolation and a dedication,
To advance the marketing of ignorance.
And a debate continues as to the experience,
Of a new leader who comes fresh with ideals.
And of this sacrifice he makes,
They have stated he will not maintain their values.
'LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL...'
St op!
None of this is funny!
'You have no idea how ridiculous this is!
This is hysterical stuff!
It is reminiscent of a sermon I heard.
Actually delivered from a pulpit.
And I sat in a pew...
Holding myself together.
Doing the best I could,
To keep my ass from laughing.
Man,
Just like I told that reverand...
You need to write this stuff down!
Or do 'stand up'.
Don't waste this stuff.
You might have found a new career.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Trying to Convince Ourselves
If I spent my life seeking your approval...
Neither one of us would be improving,
On our point of view.
Or that quality of life we feel is right for us.
We would become stagnant.
Unchanged...
Isolated.
And delusional about who we are.
We would become...
HEY!
We would become what we are right now!
A people totally out of touch with reality.
And trying to convince ourselves...
Others are envious of our display of ignorance!
And you are here,
Trying to prevent me from being who I am.
Showing me the depth of your shallowness...
With traditions you believe makes you superior!
You are in much need of psychological recovery.
First you need to be brought up to date!
And then you need to realize,
How your hatred has been self inflicted.
Hopefully you will have time to experience your life,
Without conflict that has its roots in racial inferiorities.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shunned to Slander Those Wholesome
Shunned to slander those wholesome,
They did.
In protection of their standards.
In the hopes they would be long lived.
Good people they ruined...
In belief their quality of life was attacked,
By those who spoke with honesty!
To reveal to them a truth with facts.
Oh...
The people did not like that.
Especially those self righteous.
They vowed to keep their 'ways' intact.
And they campaigned against,
Those who abhorred them.
So those opposing...
Received cold shoulders.
Foolish now they feel.
Those who threw their noses up...
With such exuberant zest,
Thought to appeal.
Although now victims of their own ignorance,
They wish a forgiveness released will heal!
But those who spoke truth,
With a desire to save them...
From uncouth sleuths!
Freed from the wicked!
And choosing not to sacrifice their peace of mind.
Since doing that to retrack a past...
Could not mend a trashing meant to last.
Living in the 'now' with truth...
Had been pursued with others to share.
But too many then had valued their pretensions.
And their eyes now reveal...
A longing to erase their despair.
With a hunger someone approaches.
To offer them empathy.
And excuse their indignities shown!
But who can believe those fed to greed?
Or the depths of their embedded deceit...
Too well dispensed.
And too well known!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Greatness
You want to be led to greatness.
You believe that it comes,
Without pain and sacrifice.
You perceive it to be a condition taught.
Something instructed or can be bought.
Something delivered upon your acceptance.
But no one known that is considered great...
Waited in anticipation to have it placed,
And presented on a plate as they safely ate!
Greatness isn't something someone takes.
Greatness is announced...
After someone has been trounced,
Through the trenches!
And 'remarkably' survives.
Surprising even the one who is stunned.
This was not a consideration,
In the mind of one who kept focused...
On what at the time,
Needed to be done!
And greatness was bestowed,
By what one did and showed!
Rising to heights,
Inspite of opposition!
And not submitting to a conformity,
That sits and seeks to be led!
Greatness is ahead of those,
Following!
Those feeding,
Upon wishes to be fed!
By that which has been left,
To nibble and taste...
From pioneering explorations!
In a desperation to succeed!
And most times discovered,
In disregard of danger!
In disregard...
Of blood one might bleed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Has Not Been Your Objective
I will not slip into wickedness,
Because that is what you wish.
Nor will I pray to be forgiven of sins.
Or temptations you have teased me with.
I am not the one,
To be conditioned how to live.
With your beliefs thrown upon me,
To keep me feeling of myself as negative.
This process you have chosen,
To diminish my identity.
Will never sit well...
With contradictions you uphold.
And do not dispel.
But choose to dangle in front of me,
As a process of an equality.
And to find within restrictions,
A limitation to place my need to be me...
Will never satisfy an acceptance of a life,
That is mine!
With a pride and dignity I carry inside.
With a presence I do not seek for you to define.
To you I do not owe an existence,
By which I will sit in a wickedness...
Inflicted by your wishes,
To teach as lessons preached.
In sermons from pulpits to have me reach...
For wings in the beyond.
While you use my ignorance,
To leech from me my freedom?
In a continued display that maintains disrespect.
And you want me to believe,
This is all I can expect?
If ever you see me on my knees...
Not a vision of you do I have,
Coming to my aid with aims to please.
And blessings I have received from God,
Has taught me the clarity of that!
You are not the creator of my breath.
Or separate dreams kept,
To fulfill you can meet to satisfy or have met.
And I have known that has not been your objective!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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