En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Appreciating the Pleasure of Receiving Less

Condemning the process,
Without having a hint to its content.
Or if it has potential to benefit.
Offers nothing to those accustomed,
To do what they've been told.
And that is to follow through,
With isolated beliefs of limitation.
A routine that keeps them on their knees.
Appreciating the pleasure of receiving less.
And identifying that with a kept unhappiness!
With a consciousness accepted,
Self serving and disrespected.
While expressing this as confessed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(The) Benefit of Needless Conflict

Blessed are those,
Who awaken with insight!
Those who have been shakened,
From a need to maintain...
Routine indoctrinations,
Of a perceived sanity.
One in which restricts limited beliefs.
Inflicted to sustain pain and grief.

And becoming less frightened,
They are...
By a Creator who wishes them to envision,
A 'truth' that is!
A truth that frees a consciousness,
Reaching to seek a peace within!
A peace shared and released between mankind.
And with truth accepted,
This without obstruction...
Can and does finally begin.

Blessed are those,
Who awaken with insight.
Those who have been shakened,
From a need to maintain...
Routine indoctrinations,
Of a perceived sanity.
One in which restricts limited beliefs.
Inflicted to sustain pain and grief.
At the benefit of needless conflict.
That produces sicknesses of all kinds.

And let it be said,
It has been to no one's benefit...
To admit on this Earth,
In their minds reflecting upon it.
That any conflict ever condoned...
Has created a respect for peace.
At least none as yet that has been expressed,
Or urgently digested to put an end to conflicts known.
To manifesting a peace that increases this benefit,
As can be shown!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Things Done And Delivered

I am sure I have not been the only contributor,
To neither conceive a receiving of flattery...
From contributions presented,
Will obtain a following blissed by this.
Hopefully there is a comprehension established,
By those mature of mind understanding what it takes...
To develop this process they of a consciousness embrace.

But there will always be the ones with beliefs,
Some with a focused determination...
Are not serious in the production of their creativity.
And they will find a way to waste lots of time,
With a choosing to introduce a game playing of minds.
To manipulate attitudes to prove themselves...
Judge and jury of one's thought process too!

However...
A messenger only delivers a message.
And this may be confusing,
To those who take matters in their limited hands.
Perceiving messengers are at their disposal,
To abuse them as if to pursue an undoing.
And from them command with a demanding.

But needless to say,
Some things done and delivered as they come...
Should be accepted and not chased away.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wonder of His Creations

Maintain you beliefs!
The ones that keep you restricted,
To limits and isolation.

I am not here to debate your outlook,
Or your fate!
That has been done,
By an indoctrination you satiate.
And baited to remain...
In a routine that you maintain that sustains,
Your joy!

Nor am I the one to convince,
That a higher consciousness...
Expands and not condenses.
To retrieve and leave those arguments...
Left behind walls and locked up fences.

Subtracting and contracting minds,
As is observed and evidenced.
Since I've already witnessed,
The lack of benefit...
To that restrictiveness.

Maintain you beliefs!
The ones that keep you restricted,
To limits and isolation.

I have been there myself.
That is why I have chosen,
The wealth of mind expansion.
Receiving all of God's gifts,
With blessings He delivers.
Without religious affiliation.
Or congregating with those...
Who oppose how I have chosen
To be devoted!

I know He is 'there'...
And so am I,
Here where He has delivered.
And I know the Almighty exists.
Without debating such 'wonder' of His creations.
Or where He chooses to sit,
Within His Kingdom.

So wherever you go to supply your satisfactions...
May you keep attraction them to fulfill your needs!
I am not the one to plead with you,
Which road taken...
Leads to Him any quicker.
Since my insight tells me His presence is near.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our normal waking consciousness, rational consciousness as we call it, is but one special type of consciousness, whilst all about it, parted from it by the filmiest of screens, there lie potential forms of consciousness entirely different.

quote by William James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People are, well, only human. We know that. The rule of law is borne out in identifying, condemning, and punishing those who violate the standards on which we all agree. This is exactly what we do in America.

quote by James Inhofe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Collective Introspective

A collective introspective was praised!
However,
The guest of honor to be applauded,
Was turned away upon arrival.
Unrecognized.
Since the person appearing,
Was not perceived to be the same person
To which such accomplishments and deeds
Were identified!
And the donated check brought tax free,
By the one accustomed to giving...
To benefit those in attendance,
Was destroyed
Without one sign of annoyance
Displayed by the one disrespected,
So many thought did not have the 'right' presence!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Insofar as I may be heard by anything, which may or may not care what I say, I ask, if it matters, that you be forgiven for anything you may have done or failed to do which requires forgiveness. Conversely, if not forgiveness but something else may be required to insure any possible benefit for which you may be eligible after the destruction of your body, I ask that this, whatever it may be, be granted or withheld, as the case may be, in such a manner as to insure your receiving said benefit. I ask this in my capacity as your elected intermediary between yourself and that which may not be yourself, but which may have an interest in the matter of your receiving as much as it is possible for you to receive of this thing, and which may in some way be influenced by this ceremony. Amen.

quote by Roger Zelazny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just a Bunch of Lazy Leechers

If we are not celebrating contributions made,
On a daily basis.
And thanking those who have done them...
To benefit our understanding and way of life.
Instead of waiting for dates,
To motivate claims that we are aware of their aims...
And deeds!
We are just a bunch of lazy leechers.
And the hint of it...
Is the accepted decadence.

We are just a bunch of lazy leechers.
Spending more time aggravating those who participate,
With lives lived to enhance what we've taken for granted.
Instead of doing dances of torment...
Like children who are disciplined,
And denied the playing with their toys that has to end!
Like them...
We are just a bunch of lazy leechers.
Ungrateful for our freedoms.
And spoiled with the beliefs...
We are here only to feed our selfish needs.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once The Chipping Away Shows a Fakeness

When one values a true 'gem'...
It is best to keep that gem shining,
At all times.
Not when it is advantageous to glout,
When it is noticed by others folks.

Give that gem the respect it deserves.
And let it know how dear it is kept,
With its radiance close to your heart.
Let that gem aware it has been identified,
For its glow that keeps 'you' sparkling.

And all that other fake stuff?
One will see eventually,
The need to have it only feeds a limitation...
That leaves.
Once the chipping away shows a fakeness.

Dedicated:
To my 'true' friends.
And devoted family members I love deeply.
They know who they are.
I wont let a 'hint' of dust fall on their paths!
Or have it heard they are being disrespected.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slipping Away to Fade

Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance is slipping away.
Upgraded is the consciousness.
And the importance of it has come to stay.

It is difficult to suppress,
Truth when truth is sought and confessed.
And pointless it is to try to hide it too...
When beliefs once known have shown new roots.
With a growing that leaves clear and fresh air to breathe.

Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance is slipping away.
Upgraded is the consciousness.
And the importance of it has come to stay.

And we have been chosen to witness it.
And we who have come to benefit from this,
Will rise like flowers reaching up from concrete.
Becoming part of that which yesterday was not possible.
Not when solutions were ignored to correct,
Cracks appearing on city streets.

With powers unlimited and abilities unrestricted...
By useless conflicts inflicted to deceive.
With minds now uplifted no longer accepting this,
As part of life and the experience of it.

Stripped quick from being significant.
A relevance to stick,
Is slipping away.
Slipping away to fade.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hear The Annual Rhetoric

My ears I keep open.
And I hear the annual rhetoric.
Spoken by some in glorious tones...
About uplifting the quality of life of those,
Of our brothers and sisters...
Who have done their best,
Avoiding to get stuck...
In cracks wrapped around loopholes.
The ones...
Many have accepted to address their unhappiness.
With a lack of discipline and purpose self confessed.

I hear the annual rhetoric.

Yet a slow slipping done,
Into a fissure has grown to become an abyss.
And 'annually' I've been approached and asked...
To express an intelligent response about this!

However...
As I have aged to confront my own obstacles,
I have forced myself not to dismiss.
With a determination to calm my outrage,
With a mind blessed to be at peace...
With the unballing of my fists!

I wonder,
Why you request me to give you an intelligent response?
Concerning an activity that has taken place,
And achieved totally on the merits of conscious ignorance.
Served and accepted as if this was a blessing,
Many wish and want to keep.
As those slandered and defamed were chased away.

I wonder,
Why you request me to give you an intelligent response?
Did you expect something glowing and profound?
Full of reflective self righteousness?
We are all in this abyss.
I just prefer to keep reaching,
To experience the higher consciousness of it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Too Happy to Fit a Bitterness into My Schedule

Never once,
Did I suggest, hint or insinuate...
Your way of life and outlook,
Was a prefabrication.
You knew my beliefs were different.
And we did not let that become between us,
As friends.

But of late,
You have become more irate.
And you seem to be annoyed,
I am not expressing disappointment...
That you are struggling,
To keep your head above water.

When I faced obstacles on my chosen path.
You laughed.
Expressing no empathy at all.
In fact,
You and your 'friends'...
Would wine and dine,
And socialize without end.
If fact,
You had more time with them to spend.

You then would ignore my calls,
When I needed your company...
As a friend to another.
To say something to me,
In the support of keeping me from not feeling...
Completely lonely.
And this is what you said...
'You made that bed,
Now lay in it by yourself.'

Well...
You made that bed,
Now lay in it by yourself.
You should be comfortable with those words.
But then,
To them I would add...
~Where are those 'friends'?
The ones you chose over me? ~

Am I harborng a bit of bitterness?
No.
Just stating to you what I know to be true.
I'm too happy to fit a bitterness into my schedule.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Really pleasure

Life is really a pleasure
Even though nothing may be very sure
Yet it can be enjoyed in full as Gift
Let there be same feeling without any shift

Nature always supports the beauty
We got to preserve it as our sacred duty
It may take its routine course
We must accept it as blessings and not curse

What is life without any aim?
We are not then worthy to claim
It has to be followed with intense care
Else we will have no place to go anywhere

Let us plan it with some motto
With or without hardship it must go on
We are for all sorts of hurdles
Care too hoots even if comes in bundles

Religion, beliefs and circumstances sometimes may prevent
Yet the bonds are to be strengthened and cemented
It may come to rescue in need or in critical hour
We need to over come it and score

I may go down with all sorts of satisfaction
I shall give no hint of dissatisfaction
If I have failed to deliver then it is my fate
I have no business to cry over it or sadly state

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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