En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As If Invisible

There is nothing done,
In front of their faces...
Or heard coming from behind their backs,
Can they say with convincing eye contact...
They were not aware of or did not know.

They can,
However...
Name it something else,
To leave as is...
But it is as it shows.
By the ones awakened,
Without their minds closed.

If they with their minds closed,
Had been hit by a truck...
And could not get up,
They would lay there and not be helped.
As if invisible,
By everyone else...
With familiar and similar mindsets.
From Sunrise to Sunset.

But if they are pricked and felt a pinch,
They would then exclaim...
Someone has made an attempt,
To threaten their lives.
Even though they could not identify...
Who or why the doer would do this.
Although they then would know...
Something was felt to complain about.
Something they still could not describe.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Know That They Don't Know

They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.

They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.

And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!

Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!

They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The AntiChrist Lives...

the AntiChrist lives...
in the harsh decisions
made by your callous leaders.
in your turning of the head,
and closing of the eyes,
as injustice is piled upon injustice.
in the countries you invade,
in those you imprison without cause...
in those you let go hungry,
in the sick you do not care for.
in your prejudices and righteous judgements,
in the closed minds of your fundamentalist fervor.
in your closed doors, closed borders,
in your profit at all costs.
in your churches, in your courtrooms,
in your fear to touch the untouchables!
the AntiChrist lives...
in the well dressed faces of apathy
that haunt your mirrors!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Same Wavelength

Our minds are on the same wavelength.
Does that frighten you to know,
From where we pull our strength?
Every time I hear you speak...
It's as if I am familiar,
With the message sent!
As if 'something' in our minds...
Wishes to confirm and convey,
What the other from a distance...
Presents in a similar and unique way.
To have us both aware,
Just how close we really are!
Yes...
Our minds are on the same wavelength.
Although miles between us seem quite far!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blinded By Confinement

Why try to reach minds closed?
What would be the point,
To impose upon that...
Which is disjointed.
There is no vision,
That collides within barriers hiding.
Why try to reach minds closed?
Or debate with those,
Who have been blinded by confinement.
And have found this to be of their content.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Felt Freed

One day I awakened,
And there was an insignificance I sensed,
From yesterday!
That cleared the morning air.

There was something about my life,
That had arrived and I liked.
Appearing in my sight...
With such a happiness I could not ignore.
It was there to make certain,
I had been aware.

And whatever to me was done and/or said,
Before I laid my head down in my bed...
Prepared to flee.
Somehow this was unknown to me.

And when I had awakened it had fled!
No longer to me to be important.
To address as my priorities.
And I felt freed!
I felt freed.
I felt...
Freed!

To live a life much more motivated.
With a quest to face challenges...
I now seek and dare!
As opportunities to prove...
I can move anything off my path,
That isn't of benefit and doesn't belong there!

And I felt freed!
I felt freed.
I felt...
Freed!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Left to Puff Up to Float

Some folks live,
To stay where they are.
Embracing their yesterdays...
To add their versions that ignites,
An excited wish...
To have those days relived,
As they are told.

The 'how-things-use-to-be' folks...
Swatting away flies from their molded stories.
From a stoop or a porch...
Or from a corner that is now paved,
Where they once played upon a dusty road.

There they stand proud and in the way,
Of someone on the move.
Someone passing through!
As they evaluate each step placed they take!
Discussing amongst themselves...
Whether or not they should approve.
And 'who' thinks they are,
Better than 'who'!
As they become distant from those...
Who have chosen to stay,
With their minds in times frozen and closed!

Recruiting young ones,
Impressed with their stagnation.
Those of similar kind and like minds,
Groomed to complain and whine...
About the current times they find.

Listening to embellished beliefs.
Leaving few taught,
That they should reach...
For their aspirations and dreams,
To become implanted.
For a flourishing tomorrow!

But as sorrows are shared...
A tomorrow for them,
Has yet to occur.
For them this awareness,
Has been for them intentionally blurred!

Or even the notion to live...
And be in the 'now' to stir a motivation!
But this implementation,
Is not a seed sown to harvest...
In minds fed on killer weeds!
Passed and expected,
To be received.

And so they too...
Are left to puff up to float,
Like the others!
To exclaim with their druthers...
How 'good' the stuff to them they get!
Just like 'how-things-use-to-be'...
Yesterday and those days before!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick With Self Inflicted Pain

Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.

Many minds like these,
Are not often seen sitting on fences.
Minds encouraged and convinced,
Become defensive...
When shown they are wrong.
And an offensiveness begins...
To shutdown with a stubbornness,
That creates their own unhealing wounds!

Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.
And around those with heads thick,
Are walls cemented with a lifetime...
Of an ignorance sick with self inflicted pain.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A clever, imagination, humorous request can open closed doors and closed minds.

quote by Percy Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is It Purely Coincidental

Is it purely coincidental,
Those of like minds...
Come to find themselves at odds,
Because it is disbelieved...
Their minds can not be that connected,
To agree?

And even if blinded by a similar insight,
They refuse to see themselves...
On the right side of day,
After sleeping all night...
To awaken with the same craving,
With a wish to fulfill familiar appetites.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Afraid To Be Revealed

There are those so afraid to be revealed by the truth.
And so afraid they are to come out of hiding.
They have felt comforted by the lies they have spoken.
To keep their pains and resentments concealed.

Their misdeeds directed have come to affect their minds.
And the years of deceit now have come to surface.
In illnesses they try to numb.
With prescribed drugs to keep them hidden.
But eventually...
Truth shows what they have done!

There are those so afraid to be revealed by the truth.
And so afraid they are to come out of hiding.
They have felt comforted by the lies they have spoken.
To keep their pains and resentments concealed.

But their agonies...
Keep them from peacefully sleeping.
Their agonies keep them constantly weeping.
With no escape...
From the misdeeds they can not shake!
Or from them go away!
To live lives for them that have been totally fake!

And they may or may not know...
What they've done to others,
Those that were not aware of it...
See it cleary.
Because truth always shows,
What has not before been exposed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Old Familiar Faces

I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I loved a Love once, fairest among women:
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man:
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.

Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood,
Earth seem'd a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.

Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces--

How some they have died, and some they have left me,
And some are taken from me; all are departed--
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

poem by Charles Lamb
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Black 7

All felt is good here
All felt is just fine
Like a rapture waiting to dine on the divine

It moves across me and sets me free
Open oh so gently

Loss of time is felt here
Burning brick in my mind
Like a cancer growing in the minds of the divine

Don't roll me over
Cant help these things I can feel
Couldn't see them coming
But I've given into what's been given
Take a taste of what's within
You cast me over
Yet I've risen and I am real

I am the little cracked mirror

song performed by by Soil from Scars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 'Backturners

Who are those people turning their backs,
When others walk pass them.

'The young people refer to them,
As the 'backturners'.
They are quick to do that to anyone they perceive,
Have ambitions to assist them...
With needs they may have in the community.'

That makes not a bit of sense.
They do it as if they wish to offend someone.

'They do.
It is done to ensure they are noticed.
And one is suppose to have their feelings hurt,
By their actions.
It's tradition.
And visitors around the world...
Come here just to see them turn their backs.'

I don't get it.
How is this act benefitting them?

'It doesn't.
But as a tourist event?
People come here to spend their money.
And not a dime does that go towards this community.
And...
The backturners complain about it.'

Yeah...
But,
Aren't they the ones who turn their backs?

'I live here.
I'm not trying to figure that out anymore.
And all of them I know personally.'

Maybe they will listen to you?

'I'm sorry.
My ears have closed shut.
Did you say something? '

I said...
Maybe they will listen to you?

'I'm sorry.
My ears have closed shut.
Did you say something? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grinding Slowly

I will never understand...
A mind closed off,
And afraid of challenges.
One that accepts,
And sees life the way it is!

Even though the way it is,
Shouldn't be that way at all.
If a point of view introduced...
Is not what the 'crowd' selects?
Mindsets become trapped.
And a growth becomes stalled.

I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!

I wish I could remove deceptions,
From the eyes and minds of some.
They could influence those they knew...
Of a consciousness,
With a higher awareness that comes to everyone!

They would understand mankind can demand,
An ending to things by taking a stand!
But a conformity that has been fed on greed...
Only breeds on selfishness that is held in one's hand!

I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!

I will never understand...
A mind closed off,
And afraid of challenges.
One that accepts,
And sees life the way it is!

I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!

I wish I could remove deceptions,
From the eyes and minds of some.
They could influence those they knew...
Of a consciousness,
With a higher awareness that comes to everyone!

I see an increase of regret on faces.
I see a reality that comes to them all!
I see a lifestyle that decreases immensely.
And I see an absence of acknowledging...
Their way of life and how it's lived,
Grinds slowly to a fall!

Grinding slowly,
To...a...fall!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spirit To Win

Having a spirit to win,
Has to be consistent.
And kept relentless is the drive,
That separates the doer...
From those who do less.
But yet decide in their minds,
That a making an attempt...
Meant,
Is not worth the effort to try.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Being Aware And Conscious Of It

I know who has been on my side,
And who hasn't.
That has been my one weakness,
And flaw.

Being aware and conscious of it,
Around those still connected to nonsense...
Will get comments made from those,
Who have yet to identify themselves...
With feelings they project on others.
And the depth of what being human means.

Many have not awakened from their delusions.
And I have never been given the opportunity,
To find my own.
None to pretend I was better than someone else.

'I have never heard you talk about yourself! '

Why should I do that...
If no one has express the interest?

I rather like to hear,
Those perceptions made of me.
They are far more interesting,
Than the reality lived I know.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seeds Of Happiness

I sat up on a tree,
From my busy life I did flee,
I felt young again,
I felt ten so I began to pretend,
I closed my eyes and pretended i was a fairy,
Suddenly my adult life was not so scary.
In my mind i sprinkled fairy dust,
Something that when I was a little girl was a must.
I was happy up there on my tree,
Lifes little pleasures I once again began to see.
It doesn't take that much to be happy.

Memories are all you need,
Memories are life's little happiness seeds.
Planted in our minds
So that when we are old happiness is something we stil can find

poem by Maneshree Govender
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Very Much Aware

When I became ill,
And was prepared to die...
I closed my eyes.
Took a breath and sighed.
And when I decided,
My life was done...
I felt 'something'!
And I heard 'someone'!
And 'She' teased and said,
'You may be ready for death...
But 'We've' got more for you instead!
You better get your ass up!
And out of that bed! '

Just like that...
I felt 'Her' smile in my head!
What in the world...?

I could not believe this at all!
I opened my eyes...
And saw lights dance upon the walls!
I began to feel such a change in me.
With a will to live...
And with incredible energy!
I got out of bed and began to exercise.
The doctors and nurses were all quite surprised!
Even I could not explain to them...
What had happened overnight!
I did not know how or where to begin!
Or what I could or could not say to them!

I 'know' there is a God.
And 'spirits' around unseen!
I am a witness to this.
This I did not dream!
And every second of each day...
I give thanks and stay in prayer!
I am here by the grace of God!
And what others believe...
I really do not care!

'Something' is so powerful!
And that 'something' is there!
That 'Something' is collectively called God...
And IT is very much aware!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was And I Am!

Closed!
To get bored;
Shows,
Glanced,
Smiled! !
To be glad;
But, it just felt different.
I was and i am!
So beautiful;
However, you are back to the world.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Wide World of Intellectual Iliteracy-WWII

Slavery Institutionalized Slavery

You didn’t take me away from aplace
You extricated me from a sacred space Me

You developed and trained mu mind
To blend in with your kind
To put you in the fore front
And leave myself behind

My mind was open to assimilation
And closed to self-realization
Education was the agent of control
Substituting society for my soul
An act of self-suicide for the good of the whole

Was it not the great minds of our times that sanctioned
Self hatred
Made the truth oblique
Made education a conditioning process
To obliterate being unique

Seek a role model, seek a hero
Don’t seek being yourself, you are a zero
If education is the answer
It has a function similar to cancer

Americanization another appellation for education

Mind control, behavioral modification
Violence is a form of militaristic communication
I’m a clone, a mere cheap imitation

If I kill it’s because I’m trained
If I hate it’s because I’m trained
If I steal it’s because I’m trained

I don’t know who I am but because I am trained
I Am A Professional

poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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