Again Those Dancers Bleed
Accusatory.
And historically dancers,
Who prance around accountability.
Choosing to place their responsibilities,
On someone else's shoulders.
To free themselves of reality!
And again those dancers bleed,
Anyone who sacrifices integrity.
With a wish to lead with honesty.
But those represented,
Seek to have their delusions accentuated.
Caring less how their created mess is addressed.
As long as truth from them is arrested,
And not publicly debated.
With a deflation that escalates,
Their addiction to achieve unquestionable waste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Deception and Its Relatives
One's inability,
To face the truth...
Should not be a reflection,
Of one's integrity.
With a declaration...
Of deceit being one's motive.
Historically speaking...
When has truth,
Ever been a prioroity?
What are myths?
And what known event...
Has never been embellished?
As powerful as truth is...
The dismissing of it,
Has become a part...
Of why some people exist.
Only the ones choosing to do this...
Seem to be the ones ostracized.
One's inability,
To face the truth...
Should not be a reflection,
Of one's integrity.
With a declaration...
Of deceit being one's motive.
And if that was the case,
Everything people have been led to believe...
About whatever it is that they perceive,
Would have to be erased...
As tremendous lies.
Told for the purpose of keeping fantasies alive.
And we all know what affect,
The effectiveness of facts leaves on minds...
Unsuspecting,
That the producing of facts...
Somehow,
Has a direct connection to revealing truth.
And who knew,
That facts, truth and honesty...
Operated on a different level as a close family.
Than deception and its relatives.
Although denial and amnesia...
Can be debated to be first cousins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choices Unwisely Made
Unfortuately...
A vote against reality,
Does not prevent its presence.
To choose to combat delusions,
And decaying fantasies.
Ushers in a clarity.
And does not waste,
Choices unwisely made.
To keep truth resisted.
Or a foolishness debated.
Yet...
Still the darkness of ignorance,
Remains cheered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honesty, integrity, and accountability, the values, which should be the hallmark of this government, have instead been thrown under the bus by an arrogant majority, casualties in a misguided campaign to shield from accountability those who abuse this House.
quote by Louise Slaughter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Talent Show
Hundreds of people wait in the queue.
All eager to show off what they can do.
At today's talent show,
They hope for a 'yes', but may get a 'no.'
The panel of judges, they want to wow.
Their families, they want to make proud.
The singers range from bad to good.
Some can't sing, but someone told them they could!
A few singers are totally amazing,
And they lap up the judge's praising.
Represented, are all types of dance.
Round the stage, the dancers prance.
Ballet, Tap, Jazz, Folk and Street.
To the music, the dancers move their feet.
Stand-up comedians go through their paces,
Hoping to put a smile on the judge's faces.
A martial arts duo show off various kicks.
There's many magicians doing magic tricks.
A ventriloquist takes the stage with his furry friend:
To his friend's performance, a hand he lends!
The contortionist can do many a weird pose,
Like getting her toes to touch her nose!
There's dogs who can dance or sing,
Or, indeed, try their hand at anything!
Some people have turned up, just for a bet,
And some of the acts, the judges just don't get.
It's been a long day, but it's been fun,
And soon the judge's shortlist is done.
All of the acts have now been put to the test.
Now it's the moment to decide who is best.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bill Cosby
No punches pulled!
Straight up and in your face.
A man tells of disturbing events...
Absolutely making no sense.
Speaks he does,
To a particular race.
And what they continue to do,
To themselves and children too...
Is a disgrace!
And saying so,
A stance he takes!
How can lack of discipline,
Be something to be admired?
How can uninspired people...
Expect so much,
With a collapse of disregard.
Entertained by fantasy!
Fed by delusion.
Nourishing empty minds long retired!
A heritage disrespected...
From neglect and irresponsibility.
Slipping and sliding into oblivion.
A conformity wished...
That is blissed with unconsciousness!
This truth expressed.
Is this the hopelessness digested?
Publicly addressed...
Are the comments of Bill Cosby!
Dedicated To:
Bill Cosby
For his wisdom, honesty and insight!
'An ignorance does not deserve appreciation!
What it needs is an honesty that is bared and addressed! '
~LSP~
Thank you, Bill! I so admire your intelligence.
You are, indeed, a friend of humanity.
And a truth so many can not face today!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Release
Through this smoke the dancers move
Demonic dirty downtown groove
Visions of the day retreat
Come on baby feel the heat
Then I can disappear
And be at peace
But when my mind is clear
I cant get no release
In the dark the dancers shout
Scream the cry of freedom out
Strobe crescendos in the night
Minds take cover, souls take flight
Oh let me disappear
Set me free, set me free
Buy when my mind is clear
I cant get no release
Set me free, set me free baby
Well I can feel it yeah
I can feel it, feel it, feel it, feel it
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Time To Take Responsibility
It is time to take responsibility.
And stop blaming those,
Who created such a monumental mess.
~This we agree.
But those who protest our forward steps,
Just happen to be the very same people...
Who wish us not to succeed.
They want others to believe...
Their incompetence is missed.
And those choosing to ignore them,
And their pretensiousness...
Need to be convinced.
With a powerful blockading obstructing facts.
By a showing of their ignorance...
That keeps a stagnation intact.~
It is time to take responsibility.
And stop blaming those,
Who created such a monumental mess.
~Have you come forward to confess?
Or are you joining us to have this addressed?
Let me dropp this clue on you...
Most of us came out of the womb prepared.
And not to dance like Fred Astaire.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living Under Such Duress
You had been the one to chose,
To ignore the wounds and sores...
Upon others done.
Hunger and homelessness,
Were those things not addressed.
Since you were then not affected.
In fact,
You had expressed...
A disdained for those suppressed.
And living under such duress.
That you are now stressed,
By similar distresses.
Why are your needs more of a priority?
When it has been your selfishness,
And way of life kept...
That has created today's disasterous effects!
And I,
Still affected...
By your decades of unwarranted disrespect,
Am accused of not expressing...
To you an empathy you feel I should direct?
Your delusions have created this mess!
Not mine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's a Matter Of Principle
It's a matter of principle.
And those excusing a lack of integrity...
Clearly exposed by those,
With low self esteem.
Upsets the ones who wish to keep,
The announcement of it...
Kept swept under a rug.
As they would rather keep facts like this...
Unknown!
Instead of to the world where it has been shown!
Insensitizing further...
A condition long condoned.
And it historically...
Has persisted with existence.
Unresisted since truth itself,
Has been dismissed.
Along with those who tell it like it is!
And doing that has long been regarded...
In some mindsets,
As too honest!
And an honesty spoken as it should be...
In some communities,
Brews a heated up negativity!
And 'this' is their collective purpose,
To unite in a positivity.
Proving them to have a dignity,
That is highly demented!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mess Left To Deepen
A mess left to deepen,
By those who now weep...
Yet they swept this mess to lay in the streets.
While shunning away those,
That came to volunteer their services...
For free.
But told the debris,
Had been a figment of imposed negativity.
What was imagined was theirs to condone,
With a turning of their backs...
To expose an ignorance shown.
And what was in sight for all to see,
Was an impossibility to correct...
With a steadfast stubbornness,
Heating up to get more upset.
And what had been mentioned,
Created tensions amongst those offended.
Well...
Offended and left alone to condone their mess,
Has been done.
Leaving those who weep in their sleeplessness,
United with their wishes kept intact.
With nothing to bring them back to their senses.
Since outstanding were the payments...
To keep them smothered in delusions.
And being addicted to delusions is all they've known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Quite Clear Who Represents With Or Without Intent
No one suffers from standards met.
A regret comes from a lack of implementation,
Beset by those who have chosen,
Certain people be watched and kept...
Under surveillance!
As laws are changed,
To keep their own derangements...
Maintained.
For purposes that exposes an insanity.
A march is sustained to uphold their degradations.
And even this can not escape those observing...
Who wonder what excuses now can be used,
To hide this massive mental illness...
Infusing the last of limitating consciousness.
And it is obvious from where this deficiency,
Has its most defective efficiency!
Without any implications needed to be addressed.
It is quite clear who represents with or without intent...
The origin of this mess spreading to gain approval.
Leaving those of integrity with an honesty professed,
Feeling absolutely blessed and grateful,
To have obtained insight!
And a removal from a debated confusion that soothes.
There is no need to provide a devoted loyality,
To those who can not see...
Greed has driven them completely 'nuts'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Options of Deceit
I would find truth offensive too...
If I had not allowed myself a break,
From my delusions.
And what I discovered about truth...
Had me dilute those delusions,
Until I was able to let them go completely.
I did not know truth and honesty...
Were not options of deceit?
Did you?
I believed deceit was used,
To protect those afraid to be too honest.
And I had heard that truth hurts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Word - from a poem by Kabir
What is there to say
about that word?
Nothing. It is itself enough.
Everything. For everything springs from it;
whatever you speak, is praise of it.
Seek it. But where to seek it?
On a clear night, go outside;
see the stars of the Milky Way shimmering there.
Somewhere inside yourself, you will be near
that word.
When you have found that place
near it, guard it:
love its mystery – always beyond;
love its reality – all that springs from it;
writers write from it;
musicians sing it, play from it;
dancers dance from it;
renunciates owning nothing in their snowy caves
are full of it;
even the greedy seek it everywhere;
even disbelievers have to say it, to deny it;
we live in it, move in it, owe our being to it;
yet it means nothing to you until you seek it;
for inside that word,
everything is full of light;
there is enough of that light in one human heart
to light the whole world.
Breathe in that word;
breathe out that word.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cutting Edge
As long as my work is edited...
To ensure by those who censor,
I say nothing to offend anyone...
They may believe is totally oblivious,
To a reality that affects...
Their pretentiously kept delusions,
They will meet and decide by voting...
If my written submissions as described,
Should be considerd...
Cutting edge!
And that determines...
Who amongst them have actually,
Spent anytime outside and beyond...
Their own comfort zones.
Many do not travel too far,
To ensure an innocence represented..
Thrives to keep some minds stunted.
Even though the majority of the people,
Have long been forced to do so...
With an eviction from these zones,
For most of their lives.
And find that a censorship...
Athough at these times lived ridiculous,
Should be applied to an acceptance...
Of a decadence that is marketed successfully!
But, of course...
That is a reflection of their lives as lived,
Valued as standards they publicly deny.
Yes it is hypocritical...
However,
It is what it is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If It's In Their Blood
Rushed justifications,
Are outdated applications...
Applied today.
By those who enforce and try to endorse them.
Using techniques that never worked...
But incompetence does not offer that,
As an assessment tool for fools to use.
The obviousness of dismissed discipline,
Has fallen on the shoulders...
Of those who are older.
And...
Quick to use excuses,
To warrant their denials.
They would rather find others guilty
And put them on trial.
Folks are still looking,
For a way to toast their ill gotten gains.
Even still they are on the prowl,
To boost and boast their bloated egos.
To show themselves above and 'beyond'.
Although most are just filled with hot air.
Unaware no one cares...
If they should stay 'beyond'
And untouchable!
As long as they do not leave behind,
Their ignorance.
And a lot of that they do leave behind.
To circumvent any progress intended.
Or contemplated and meant.
With few wishing to be in the same space,
To hobnob with those of such mindlessness.
To hear nonsense spilling from the mouths,
Of the ones choosing to hide insecurities...
Behind plastic faces!
Trying to fake remnants of honesty.
Truth and honesty?
Integrity with a dignity...
Expressed with identity?
Are you kidding me?
Seriously...
Are you?
Those days are evaporating...
Faster than water can be found in Death Valley.
And all you will see in Death Valley are vulchers,
Picking over skeletal remains.
Or something that looks as if it had been alive.
Or wished that it could have been.
And did just that...
With an avoidance to pretensions.
It looks as if reality for some is here to stay.
For others...?
They will never know what it is to address it.
Or become satisfied...
If and when it ever should become acknowledged!
They will still charade.
It is in their blood to do so!
Yes! It is.
It is not hidden.
It is in their blood...
Or DNA
If one chooses to say it that way!
To dip in sin,
To tease like demons...
And solicit the weak to be wicked!
As if that is their mission.
To fulfill demented ambitions.
If it wasn't...
Why does so much of it exist?
The evil and the wickedness.
And depicted on TV.
As is preached from pulpits.
Their quality of life they now find rotten...
Has been based upon all of it!
How can that be corrected?
When not one bit of it has been created from truth!
How can anyone correct minds,
Accustomed to being used and abused!
And encouraged to uncover similarities like these...
To keep a disturbance nurtured in this diminishment!
If it's in their blood.
And that's where the conflict is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remaining True
When you can show to me,
You can be respectful with discipline...
And...
Have integrity?
You never know,
How far this belief in yourself will go.
Or...
The heights you can achieve.
You never know,
Who will come to me with requests to be impressed.
And you are on my mind with this request to be addressed...
And...
There you are,
Always at your best!
And remaining true,
To you.
When you can show to me,
You can be respectful with discipline...
And...
Have integrity?
You never know,
How far this belief in yourself will go.
Or...
The heights you can achieve.
When you can show this to me?
You've already made this obvious,
To everyone else.
And I am just there to agree.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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uniformed Expression.
I mute the remote and watch the program in TV,
For the reasons known to them, you and me,
The hula-hula dancers from Hawaii shake the hips with wild wink,
The hip dancers from Middle East cover not their breasts,
The movements are swift and beautiful as the dancers,
from all around the globe. When the eyes are rotated,
from left to right to show the love, anger and fear,
the facial muscles are pulled, puffed and twisted,
to show the surprise, disgust and contempt,
the necks are moved in the same way as the other,
from Europe and Africa with their unique dance steps,
How is it possible that human have picked up,
The same method to express the emotions,
Even a silent movie tells us a story, visually.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Martyr
He with weak fantasies,
Delivered from bended knees...
Pledged to beg.
A martyr.
With delusions to feed.
And believing he has rights,
To sacrifice his life.
For purposes to gain notoriety.
Hoping his activities,
Gain an attention sought!
And meant to leave,
Those observing...
Impressed.
And left to express deep empathy,
Addressed.
Knowing...
If his heart can be on his sleeve,
To bleed publicly!
As he does.
To represent,
The very best of suffering!
He has no other needs to fulfill.
And they are thrilled,
He is determined...
To offer them an escape from their pain.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Addiction
My addiction
It is a story of my addiction
Loved her a lot
Cared a lot
However, everything I do for her, never seems perfect
I am truly alone and not even my addiction is with me anymore
She is so far away, that her presence I cannot even feel
I am addicted to her
However, she is not addicted to me
Since, she can live without me
Love, seems good in stories
Although, in reality love pains and does make one bleed
Tears of joy always fade away
Sorrow creeps in life
To be honest I feel so empty without you
Although, reaching out to you is impossible
Earlier, I tried my best
To impress you, I did everything
However, you are my addiction, which is out of my reach
All that I can do is weep and weep
Even then, you will never be mine.
poem by Rohit Sapra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance Figure
Dark-eyed,
O woman of my dreams,
Ivory sandalled,
There is none like thee among the dancers,
None with swift feet.
I have not found thee in the tents,
In the broken darkness.
I have not found thee at the well-head
Among the women with pitchers.
Thine arms are as a young sapling under the bark;
Thy face as a river with lights.
White as an almond are thy shoulders;
As new almonds stripped from the husk.
They guard thee not with eunuchs;
Not with bars of copper.
Gilt turquoise and silver are in the place of thy rest.
A brown robe, with threads of gold woven in
patterns, hast thou gathered about thee,
O Nathat-Ikanaie, 'Tree-at-the-river'.
As a rillet among the sedge are thy hands upon me;
Thy fingers a frosted stream.
Thy maidens are white like pebbles;
Their music about thee!
There is none like thee among the dancers;
None with swift feet.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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