An Addiction To Self Hatred
People who make excuses for themselves,
Will always seek opportunities...
To cry out injustices against them have been made.
But a lack of discipline and respect shown,
To themselves and others...
Have been condoned to take a backseat,
To allow their self inflicted indignities heard...
With a loud outspoken outreach of this served.
As they continue not to listen and react like beasts,
While continuing the act to despise their own kind.
With an expectation of this sought and taught to keep.
And programmed they are to have this kind of mind,
While confined to limitations worshipped to abuse...
An addiction to self hatred uncompromised to diffuse.
Or... be moved from depths of this ignorance accepted.
Since a tolerance of it has been protected as a reward,
To achieve as a reflection of who and what is represented.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Never Accepted What Their Eyes Have Shown
Something in their heads,
Have them programmed to believe...
They should not respect themselves.
Or expect they can and could achieve.
Something missing in their heads,
Should have connected them to a maturity.
Something that recognized,
Who should be responsible...
And accountable for their activities.
Something in their minds,
Should have made eye contact with themselves.
Something said or they did not see...
A reflection of themselves yet!
One accepted and believed.
Something has left.
And will never return.
Something that should have been taught.
But for them,
Never to be learned!
And that is why they hide from themselves.
They dislike and despise what they see!
And they have never accepted,
What their eyes have shown!
They are afraid to be who they are.
Even alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now Regarded As Threats
It was wrong to do from the very beginning,
To dismiss the foolishness with excuses to ignore it.
Now that foolishness has become a way of life,
With a tolerance to condone.
Those who had oppose the existence of it,
And the lack of respect with a void of discipline shown...
Today are themselves now regarded as threats,
To the booming medical industry.
And a determination being made to medicate everyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is Not A Reflection Of You
The evil that you experience, feel, how abusive people react to you, their false impressions of you, estimates of you, responses to you, is a reflection of their evil, prejudice, blindness, of their lack of development, it is not a reflection of you, of your abilities, intent, it is not an impression of the impression you make, it is a reflection of them, their limitations and ignorance. Their being distorts good, mocks love, an amplifies weakness, such have, are become, such are fake, superficial enlightenment, unconscious.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Procrastinations Created to Make An Erasing
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
People like this are easily offended.
Believing their disrespect for others,
Should be condoned.
People like this,
Anticipate being appreciated!
For making mediocrity enforced upon others.
With a downgrading of their expectations.
And communicating that,
To entrap as this is shown!
No excuses are better made,
Than those insecure that make them.
A beating around the bush,
Whether conscious or not.
Is not done quite as well...
As those who attempt to escape,
From hesitated procrastinations.
Created to make,
An erasing of their accountability!
And as incredible as this may be...
People extend to them patience,
With comprehension.
Instead of giving them a boot to the curb!
Asked for and deserved!
A lack of discipline should never be rewarded.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nomads Free of Self Consciousness
There is a place where excuses are made.
And finding fault with others is condoned.
Children are disrespectful...
Hygiene is neglected, disregarded and rejected
And comprehension of it,
Goes unknown!
People defend their ignorance,
And lack of common sense...
With much protest!
Yet wishes to live like this in bliss
Is sick
Accepted
And shown!
Urban indigestion...
Constipates suggestions.
Blocked they are from knowledge
That acknowledges a cultural lost!
Nomads free of self consciousness,
Resisting attempts to fix...
At any cost!
A collective sanity is missing!
And those who know what it takes,
Are seen with their fingers crossed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Desperation Will Be Yours
If you had not been in acceptance,
Of those forward steps made.
And sacrificed to place,
By your own kind...
Your high expectations,
For a neglect known and shown...
Are your mistakes!
Never to be erased.
And thrown back into your face.
If you had not been in acceptance,
Of those forward steps made...
There is not a thing you can say,
About having feelings of dismay!
It's like this...
Ignorance invested,
Delivers an infestation of it.
Condoned foolishness,
With a lack of discipline...
And feeding generations of this without end?
Produces excuses.
And those sitting back with beliefs,
What is seen is none of their business...
Will discover any business they claimed,
Aimed and flushed into toilets.
It's like this...
Ignorance invested,
Delivers an infestation of it.
And desperation will be yours...
Heaven knows.
So dropp all drama.
Desperation will be yours...
Heaven knows.
Drop that drama.
Heaven knows.
Get a Llama.
Heaven knows.
Don't blame Obama.
Heaven knows!
If you had not been in acceptance,
Of those forward steps made.
Desperation will be yours...
Heaven knows.
Drop that drama.
Heaven knows.
Get a Llama.
Heaven knows.
Don't blame Obama.
Heaven knows!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Have Already Murdered Their Futures
They have already murdered their futures.
With an allowing of a lack of discipline.
And the loss of self respect shown and given.
What future do they expect to have,
With no investment left protected in it.
And assisting to dismantle their own identities?
With a hope their insecurities will be accepted?
They have already murdered their futures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Affixed Discretions
Raised on hate.
Rescinded bad judgements,
Don't break affiliations...
That one makes.
Accepted,
When one is taught...
And raised on hate!
Reflecting a society,
Draped!
And shallowed in denial,
By such debates.
Truth comes late!
When money spoils eyes of those
Who create mistakes!
Exposing ignorance,
As a choice...
To validate what takes place.
And remorse dressed to seek forgiveness...
With excuses,
Does not thaw a salvation...
From hearts feeding,
On demented values condoned.
With a sympathy displayed,
Scored by a symphony that plays!
But when shown...
Some chosen acts of cruelty,
Done by those well known...
Are denied and outlawed!
Uncovering the flaws,
Of a twisted system chewed...
Between the teeth of demon jaws!
Without review!
Or an addressing of the standards
Demanded...
And ordered to continue.
With affixed discretions,
Bloodied, blessed and subdued!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Represented By Observation
People do not listen with intent to comprehend.
People hear what they want to.
Even if the words they hear were never mentioned.
He specifically stated 'No acts of terror will be condoned'.
And those hearing what they wished heard him say this,
'What was done was an act of terror'.
Even with his taped remarks repeated...
Those who oppose his comments,
Still hear what they want to hear.
Because people do not listen to achieve clarity.
And this is represented by observation.
To describe and act not yet committed,
Is different than hearing those insisting...
There was something they heard,
But nothing of it was mentioned...
To fit their twisting of it.
~So what is it that you're saying? ~
'I like my pizza topped with onions, green peppers...
Roasted red peppers and saugage.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tongues Enclosed Within Cheeks
How am I qualified to live my life?
That's an interesting question...
Coming from the likes of someone like you.
Someone assigned to watch what I do.
Getting paid a salary to monitor me too.
Then to come uninvited into my comfort zone...
Looking for ways to have me condoned,
In my own home.
To ask how I am qualified to live my life?
I guess as much as you are...qualified.
If you can leave here with undiminished pride.
And with those same indignities remembered.
Those same indignities you do not at all try to hide.
I was taught to observe others with tolerance.
But I have learned to teach,
How to keep tongues enclosed within cheeks.
And how one's teeth should be whitened to make clear,
What deliberate lips wish for someone like you to kiss.
And to remember it as an undenying qualification,
People like you not expecting that is kept in preparation!
'I appreciate that.
You are not like the others.
You express an intelligence.
And...
Your diction?
So crisp and understandable.
I am impressed AND amazed.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Detriment To A Kept And Worshipped Evil
A routine that is lived,
And negatively fed...
Leaves one to identify darkness,
As the only life there to share.
And unfortunate is the mind,
Stuck and transfixed...
On a daily search that seeks,
This to sow and this to reap as fit.
A routine that is lived,
And negatively fed...
Has accepted limitation.
With just wickedness to spare instead.
Options of alternatives...
Does not exist,
Inside this kind of head that dreads.
And one with a consciousness like this,
Is deeply troubled.
And has been convinced,
Any sign of happiness felt or by others shown...
Is a detriment to a kept and worshipped evil,
One wishes to spread and see condoned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just Because I Understand
The disdain and your displeasure,
Have both been shown with equal venom.
Your point has been made.
And so has the confirmation of your tunnel vision.
But understand one thing...
My patience has nothing to do with you.
It is because of my patience,
Your limitations are more tolerated.
But that does not make you less the threat!
Just because I understand,
Does not mean I will be less protected.
Like I said...
Your limitations are more tolerated.
But that does not make you less the threat!
Just because I understand,
Does not mean I will be less protected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Extrinsic Addiction
My extrinsic addiction,
My intrinsic affliction.
Everything for the reward.
Money and matter are my Lord.
What's fake is seen
What's real unseen.
Makes me feel unclean.
Unpure, I am obscured.
Became too weak.
Now the truth I seek.
Lies I sought.
Untruths I bought.
They cost me my soul.
Lost all control.
They took their toll.
Spiral down the hole.
Til' I hit bottom.
No longer pursuing lies.
My addiction it dies.
Slowly I rise.
Replaced by a light,
For which I will fight.
I won't go quietly onto the night.
Now patient and kind.
The truth I did find.
God is my spirit.
The devil, my mind.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Crazed Are Some Programmed Mindsets
Giving of myself, talents and time,
Use to be an easy thing for me to do.
I didn't mind it.
I found in doing so it was enjoyed.
Until I discovered my efforts being taken for granted.
And I stopped feeling grateful to give my stuff away.
'Assuming' what I had done was appreciated.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
I then began to notice people,
Believing to be doing me the favor...
To share in the wasting of my time!
Thinking of me to be perceive as selfish.
And 'if' I had not given my best,
They wouldn't have known me at all.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
Today as I come to think about this,
I give them less of my best.
And of me it is thought I seek their attention.
That's how people into themselves think.
Until they are shown,
Doors that have been permanently closed.
And ignored are those with turned up noses.
Crazed are some programmed mindsets.
And their lack of consciousness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Is the Kind of Life
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
We are born to believe,
What is fed to us.
This 'feeding' is received...
And what is perceived,
We with others retrieve with like minds!
Preferring to find those of the same kind,
With like 'experiences' shared without fear!
And fear keeps us all indoctrinated to accept doubt!
Isn't that what marketing peace is about?
With the realization it will never be found...
As we rely on the production of conflict and confusion,
To always be identified!
Knowing that as well as we do.
And hoping this in our lives stays around!
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
And is kept alive to thrive...
In comfort zones,
Until the day we die!
Leaving those who defy these 'truths'...
Spilling their guts out in confession booths.
Or squeezing themselves to sit in pews...
As they listen to hypocrites from pulpits preach,
To leech on minds already screwed and confused!
And this is the kind of life,
We all have come to love!
Listening to teachings,
That 'demons' from hell have no wings...
Allowing to be demoralized on Sunday,
Learning more about the devil...
As we hear these 'disciples' sing!
And this is the kind of life,
We all have come to love!
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Strapped To Ineffective Stagnation
When a choice is made,
To dismiss the experience of another...
With feelings that become defensive,
Because someone is perceived to be...
A know it all with a hidden agenda to achieve!
How can anyone blame with a finding of fault,
The one who decides to walk away...
From those who choose,
A brick wall to find and repeatedly stalk.
Without making any attempts to climb.
Leaving behind this kind of mindset,
Is best to do with no need to feed conflicts.
Or a getting upset!
People will or will not eventually learn,
From hitting their heads that are knocked.
As facts accepted,
Prevents their delusions with a stopping.
And a respect is given to a listening,
That develops one's comprehension that starts...
A devotion to understanding.
When that begins,
An ignorance dissipates to end!
Like a collection of dust blowing away with a wind.
And the one who has risen to accept life to wisen,
Refrains from the sharing of rolling childish eyes.
Or tries to compromise a truth,
To argue with those too foolish to remove limitations.
That keeps them strapped to ineffective stagnation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The One You Despise
Mother, I must warn you, you've come to look the fool
For, in attempt to teach me life, you've broken every rule.
You say that I should stand proud, because my ancestors were black
Yet for the ones of white and red my pride must somehow lack
You told me to feel handsome, be proud of what I see
And yet, 'Big, black and ugly, ' is all you say to me
Then manners, you tried on me to press
And handsome grooming, with proper dress
But then, you offer no respect,
And, still, from me, perfection expect
And, now, you say it's time to go
And, at eighteen, it's time. I know.
And though I love you I must away
Though, never knowing just how to say,
'I'm sorry'
The one you despise is always there
She's taught me respect, loving and care
She's taught me pride, in my ancestors, all
Because I am me, that's enough to stand tall
She's shown me the beauty in others too
She's even shown me the beauty in you.
She's taught me manners, how to get along
That appreciation and respect should be strong.
She does not worship me as you say, but offers me respect
And even with my imperfection, my trying, she accepts
Were it not for her, when I was in LA
I could hurt myself, or run away
So go ahead, Mother, and call her a whore
You'll only draw me away from you more.
'I'm sorry.'
poem by Wakefield Mahon
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Doing Their Best To Achieve
What advice would you give,
To anyone seeking with a wish...
To become successful.
'That's a difficult question.
I really don't know.
And advice?
I am no authority to be giving advice,
To anyone.'
Okay.
What would you say about those,
Who have given their support...
To the ones who do become successful.
'Few people know,
From the beginning who will become successful.
However...
I will say this,
It depends on the enviorment one lives in.
If one hears over and over again,
That they need to leave an enviornment...
In which people are not accustomed,
To those wishing to achieve success...
There will be many people there believing themselves,
Limited in mind and insecure.
And many will berate anyone choosing to think...
They can do something else with their lives,
Than wasting their time talking about others...
Doing their best to achieve.
And achievement takes work, discipline, devotion and sacrifice.
With a getting of very little sleep,
Those unaware would never accept to believe.'
Do you believe you are successful?
'Extremely.
I was born with the ability to ignore naysayers.
Especially those hiding their insecurities,
To make excuses to dump their self hatred on others.
And people like that I have known all my life.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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18 Square Miles
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And is the home of over four thousand gang members.
Some segments of it,
Look as if negligence is tolerated.
And decadence celebrated.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And sits in a state that use to brag about its affluence.
Clearly with ignorance to salivate.
As disrespect for others is shown...
And lack of discipline and illiteracy,
Considered top rate and obviously condoned.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
With hidden pockets of poverty.
Neighborhoods are divided,
Into sections like an apartheid.
With those who control this...
Absent of vision and intelligence free.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
With racism practiced as a way of life.
And those who inflict their bigotry,
See themselves in a self righteous light.
The place is only eighteen square miles.
And the affects of hunger and homelessness,
Is as protected as the theft that goes on.
The place is only eighteen square miles,
Of illogical standards valued.
Eighteen square miles,
Of blinded physical and mental abuse!
Reflecting a nation,
Unraveling from the inside.
And using those victimized as an excuse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Continuing...............
Limitations are not for people for whom life is a continuing quest.
Boundaries are not for people for whom life is a continuing exploration.
Destinations are not for people for whom life is a continuing journey.
Harbours are not for people for whom life is a continuing sail.
Accomplishments are not for people for whom life is a continuing
Leisure is not for those who are always indulged in work.
poem by Meetika Srivastava
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