Between Feeding Their Greed and The Cost
There is a wish to decrease,
Increasing deficits.
But those that desire this...
Do not want their lifestyles,
To suffer from it.
Not if it means a tasting of reality.
They want to get across,
Spending habits have them at a loss.
But cut backs to sacrifice...
Has them tossed back and forth,
Between feeding their greed and the cost...
Of trimming away what is perceived as needs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
THE COST...by Talile Ali
V1
ALWAYS AVOIDED FAME
AFRAID TO PAY THE COST
LOSS OF FAMILY
FRIEND'S WHO ALL ARE LOST
THERE IS NO DENYING
THE NEED TO SERVE IS STRONG
THE COST OF SERVICE EXPENSIVE
THAT'S NOT TO SAY IT'S WRONG
CHORUS
BUT IT'S THE COST
IT'S THE COST
GOTTA PAY THE PIPER
OR ELSE YOU'LL BE TOSSED
IT'S THE COST
V2
LOVE IS PLAIN AND SIMPLE
HEART IS STRONG AND TRUE
EPIPHANIES ARE FLOWING
WANT TO SHARE WITH YOU
SO I WRITE AND PERFORM
AND YOU SEE MY NEED
TO DO THIS HERE SERVICE
FOR EVERYONE'S THAT'S PLEASED
JAM FOR 24 BARS
CHORUS
BUT IT'S THE COST
IT'S THE COST
GOTTA PAY THE PIPER
OR ELSE YOU'LL BE TOSSED
IT'S THE COST
FADE OUT
poem by Talile Ali
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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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Deficits mean future tax increases, pure and simple. Deficit spending should be viewed as a tax on future generations, and politicians who create deficits should be exposed as tax hikers.
The Need And The Greed
Need is a desire; greed is a desire.
Desires denied, sufferings surface.
Need is met at ease but not the greed
Which is boundless with sufferings profound.
Need and greed aren’t in water tight cells.
Need might restrict to physical wants.
Greed is for ego’s gratification.
Possessiveness is the sign of the greed.
To earn by wrongful means is from greed.
To exploit and hoard is an act of greed.
To garner and flaunt all you have is greed.
Greedless, though penny-less, you’re loveable.
To sedate the pride is to tame the greed.
To kindle the pride is to fuel the greed.
Having got money, power and possession,
As the result of greed, you will lose peace.
Remove the greed; jealousy is gone.
Remove the greed; no feeling of revenge.
Hail the poor and condemn the greedy.
Then the tendency to grow rich will wane.
Live simple; live humble; then need is less.
Be proud to own a bicycle, not a car.
Value one who owns a bicycle, not a car.
You will have saved energy and the nature.
Don’t embrace comforts, which will weaken you.
Don’t enthuse with ego, which will make loss big.
Unlike the cheat, being poor is not a shame.
Less wants; less sufferings, more happiness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Demands For a Chocolate Coating
Those who had mindlessly in their whims binged...
Now find themselves cringing,
At the thought of losing their credit status.
And the loss of habitual mall spending sprees.
A reality feared has come too near.
With feelings of being cursed.
Without opportunities to rehearse,
The worse as it appears on the horizon.
Periodic trips to visit urban blight...
No longer excites those on these voyages.
Many now see themselves as addicts needing a fix.
Lifestyles for them have changed.
And desperation sits thick...
Without demands for a chocolate coating,
To spread over it!
Those who had mindlessly in their whims binged...
Now find themselves cringing,
At the thought of losing their credit status.
And the loss of habitual mall spending sprees.
With the usual shopping in snobbing glee.
A reality feared has come too near.
With feelings of being cursed.
Without opportunities to rehearse the worse.
And no time from it to split...
To rush and nurse their grieving disbeliefs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Increased awareness and education could be a great help toward improving spending and saving habits and increasing participation and contribution levels to retirement plans.
Caught Up In a Mess
What amazes is the feeding of the greed.
And the heat from the people raging,
That a payback is not needed.
Some say...
Accusations cause sensations deceived.
And we are caught up in a mess,
That is not cost effective.
Well, well...
What amazes is the feeding of the greed.
And the heat from the people raging,
That a payback is not needed.
Some say...
Accusations cause sensations deceived.
And we are caught up in a mess,
That is not cost effective.
Well, well...
We've been affected.
Well, well...
And disconnected.
Well, well...
From a secret kept,
Discreet and much deceiving.
Well, well...
We've been affected.
Well, well...
And disconnected.
Well, well...
From secrets kept,
Now destroying democracy.
What amazes is the feeding of the greed.
And the heat from the people raging,
That a payback is not needed.
Some say...
Accusations cause sensations deceived.
And we are caught up in a mess,
That is not cost effective.
Well, well...
No benefit comes to visit and stay.
And we are turned away,
From those questions we want answered.
Well, well...
We've been affected.
Well, well...
And disconnected.
Well, well...
From secrets kept,
Now destroying democracy.
Well, well...
It just amazes.
Well, well...
More are not crazed.
Well, well...
It seems we're closer,
To those final days.
Well, well...
What amazes is the feeding of the greed.
And the heat from the people raging,
That a payback is not needed.
Some say...
Accusations cause sensations deceived.
And we are caught up in a mess,
That is not cost effective.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Loss Lost in Thought
Loss of love from your partner in soul:
A.k.a. jilt;
Loss of love from your bygones of souls:
A.k.a. mourning;
Loss of love which came from a dearth
Of love through rescinding love:
A.k.a. hatred;
Love to science in analysis be
Secretion of oxytocin in association
With an entity that leads to bonding - so boring:
A.k.a. must all suffer scientific explanation?
Loss of love, a catastrophe, nay!
So love, nurture love, and be loved!
Loss of nature from dear Mother Earth:
A.k.a. destruction;
Loss of greed in material world:
A.k.a. always opportunity for altruism;
Loss of kindness and pity and all:
A.k.a. human nature has dark undertones;
Loss of ego and fire of desire:
A.k.a. loss may be good in consequence;
Loss of responsibility; humility:
A.k.a. loss may be unnerving.
Loss of Homo sapiens:
A.k.a. demise of the flawed primate - pinnacle of Darwinism - equates to
No art; music; poetry; debate, and
Everything innate ornate of human!
So concentrate please, on bliss of this.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Black Bruises IV
I can gorge the vile blackness,
the eviscerated acquiescence
like a dog-eats-dog carnival
I can endure the struggle
tasting blotted inks,
tasting cheap champagnes,
tasting one's molting skin,
tasting a chance to begin,
tasting cold greasy dishes,
tasting stark carnal sin,
tasting tar and nicotine,
tasting saline misery,
but am I the only one tasting
these black bruised savors?
poem by Norman Santos
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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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Reality Fatalities
Bitter is the truth,
Coming to some to stun.
And in these awakening days now lived...
None of it is partial.
A totalness of it is addressed,
As it relentlessly gives...
Heartbreak and emptiness.
And tempers everywhere,
Are there and flaring.
Truth is not to be dared!
Its affects are bold.
Leaving folks beholding it...
In blank and helpless stares.
Unbridled are horses and other pets.
Showpiece collections...
Being stripped away,
With tears and regrets!
Like the sudden departure of anything,
Or anyone loved...
That leaves behind a grieving,
And much unhappiness that is left.
To feel without an accepting...
Like the ease of a breathing breath.
These reality fatalities,
Meeting a squeezing done.
By a faltering of an economy...
Dwindling from a greed,
Excitedly greeted and once welcomed.
Now gone.
Swept across a land of those who once believed,
Their quality of life was set and sacred.
Untouched but now discovered...
Is a bleeding felt that succeeds.
They can not recover,
From lifestyles lived beyond their means.
When the certainty of truth...
Brings with it a stinging done.
And demeaning with a death,
Of all delusions that have been kept!
These reality fatalities,
Meeting a squeezing done.
By a faltering of an economy...
Dwindling from a greed,
Excitedly greeted and once welcomed.
Like the drifting away of leaves,
From barren trees.
Never to reproduce the joys...
And those temptations that seduced,
A feeding fed that has run out of its 'juice'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dwindling Supplies
If no one else has made attempts,
To what was perceived was there
And did not replenish it.
No one person alone can restore
That which is gone.
And isn't there anymore.
If it was not prioritized,
With an inventory taken of dwindling supplies
No one should be surprise,
The diminishing of it
Has vanished from all eyes.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
If it was not prioritized,
With an inventory taken of dwindling supplies
No one should be surprise,
The diminishing of it
Has vanished from all eyes.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
If no one else has made attempts,
To what was perceived was there
And did not replenish it.
No one person alone can restore
That which is gone.
And isn't there anymore.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
No one can have what is not given right back.
That is not the way,
A feeding comes to stay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Incredibly Unbelievable
Whenever has it been that something disbelieved,
To be unbelievable...
Was more attention grabbing,
Than that which no one can be convinced...
Is more real than their acceptance of 'reality' defended.
Or the 'reality' that has led to the feeding,
Of that which is perceived to be of a quality...
One should and can believe.
And that which is disbelieved,
Is observed for what it is...
Incredibly unbelievable,
As witnessed to be disbelieved.
'You're back on crack, huh? '
Back?
I do not do drugs.
'Well...
Whatever it is that you do 'do',
You could make a fortune selling that!
'Cause this stuff you are 'rapping'...
Is 'cosmic'.
And you say you don't do drugs?
I find 'that' to be,
Incredibly unbelievable.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Habits that Become Addicting
The only mystique there is to consume,
And believe...
Is that which has a more concentrated,
Feasibility to release from periods of testing.
Keeping a feeding of this process is needed.
And if leaks of deceit should begin to be 'peeped'...
More opportunities are created,
To tease with more advantageous temptations.
And habits that become addicting like a good wage,
Are encouraged to nourish satisfactions.
Until the expense of those habits,
Begin to diminish the cost of protecting delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accredited Arrogance
Many are turning their backs away,
From those hollow feelings felt...
Left by the chase of over-taxing lifestyles.
Awakening to the facts,
A sigh of relief is more welcomed...
Than a status obtained that has gone.
More people seek happiness not grief.
More are seeking purpose than symbols of success.
More are finding reality is cheaper to keep,
Than the skyrocketing expense of maintaining delusion.
Many are turning their backs away,
From those hollow feelings felt...
Left by the chase of over-taxing lifestyles.
Awakening to the facts,
A sigh of relief is more welcomed...
Than a status obtained that has gone.
And no one has of yet confessed,
As to what they have kept possessed...
From 'owning' anything that has been repossessed,
To be sold at auctions to the highest bidder.
After one has slaved away throughout one's life,
To keep a pride dignified at a price today...
One can no longer socially flaunt,
With an accredited arrogance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Compassion Seekers
Admitted compassion seekers,
Seem to be on the rise...
In increasing numbers these days.
And with a quiet desperate reaching,
To justify why they have dissatisfactions.
With hearts so unhappy,
In times when any happiness felt...
Has a desire to be freed,
Of those traps...
Carried too long on burdened backs.
Admitted compassion seekers,
Are on the increase with wishes to be released...
From unending debates.
And those rat races chasing,
Fixations to taste a piece of expensive cheese.
A higher consciousness has come to enlighten.
An insight for a wider diet 'speaks'.
And an addiction to 'things'...
Many are finding,
Is diminishing from them to decrease.
Giving to receive to reciprocate the act of that,
Are those advocating to be touched!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Meaning Of War
Meaning of war
War means bombing
War means explosions
War means fire
War means destruction
War means hating
War means mutilation
War means killing
War means tears
War means guns
War means loss
War means not of who is right
War means not of who is wrong
War means only of whom is left
poem by Oscar Montano
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With Looks On Faces
It has been historically reported,
Commandments were sent...
To be obeyed as ordered.
There were ten of them.
Depending on recommended versions...
All of which ignored.
To be followed...
Not amended as wished.
But a need for satisfactions...
To a detriment,
Was explored.
To redefine The Almighty's wish!
Man chose to dilute these truths.
With laws to complicate the basics.
And today humanity faces,
Consequences to embrace...
With looks on faces fed with greed.
And difficult to replace a created disgrace.
But actions are not traced...
Back to a feeding that chose to disbelieve!
And that feeding still exists.
With screams from protestors...
In demands for more of it!
With looks on faces...
Addicted with insistence,
To a feeding of more of their greed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Muddied Sluggers Live With Something To Prove
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Many mud sluggers thowing sludge,
Don't think they're slime backs...
Sliming back.
Those mud sluggers throwing sludge,
Don't think they're slime backs...
Sliming back.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back.
On backs.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back,
On backs.
Those mud sluggers throwing sludge...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back!
And many muddied sluggers live with something to prove...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back.
Mud sluggers living lives with nothing else to do...
Are slime backs,
Sliming back.
Slime backs,
Who are slime backs...
Will slime back,
On other backs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without The Money
It is always the economy,
Affecting needs.
Always it is!
And not one's education...
Flaunted as perceived.
It is always the economy,
That breathes and feeds on greed.
And no matter if one goes to college...
It is not the Masters or Doctorate degree,
That keeps one perched...
High on a pedestal for all to see.
Without the money,
All pretensions can be dropped.
Oh without that money,
All the bragging seems to stop.
And it is without money...
No one talks about what they've got.
Or fingerpops with a bee-bop hopped.
If money is not felt...
A sobbing begins with a flow,
That can not be mopped.
It is always the economy,
That breathes and feeds on greed.
And no matter if one goes to college...
It is not the Masters or Doctorate degree,
That keeps one perched...
High on a pedestal for all to see.
It is that MONEY!
That holds a head higher than clouds.
It is that money making days sunny.
That ties that magic knot!
And if the economy doesn't feed,
A feeding of greed one receives...
A boo-hooing of tears becomes the reality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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