Centerstage
Embellishments were the rage and was craved,
By them.
Their lives depended on their use.
Especially in recreating moments of reality.
And where they were when events took place.
And who did what as they relished being there!
While entertaining the lack of facts,
Dances upon their exaggerating faces.
They would never call what they do lieing!
Or misrepresenting the truth.
No! Not these troupers.
Remnants of reality,
Mixed with sweetened tweaks to flourish...
Is the best way to describe their 'romanticized' lives.
With their actual participation left undebated!
Since anyone listening would not know what to believe!
And those getting the attention,
Loved being centerstage!
This was a behavior encouraged...
By those seeking to be amused!
Why pay for the 'bow' when it can be had for free?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Which Is Which
> To beware of the truth.
> Is truth...it, self?
> So, what is truth?
>
> Is truth, true love?
> Or...just a reality?
> To be a man...is that truth?
>
> A man...is reality.
> A woman...is reality.
> To be woman...is that truth?
>
> To have more then one partner
> Is a reality of the world.
>
> Which this world agrees.
> Truth is; in my point of view
> Is what one claims to be truth.
>
> But, the truth is whatever you
> Are doing as I speak.
> A woman is good for the soul.
>
> That truth is very bold.
> A man lives for his manhood
> So I am told.
>
> Is it truth or reality?
> Respect is in the middle of the spectrum.
> Male vs. Female
>
>
> That is truth.
> Man being woman
> A reality.
>
> Woman being man...
> She tries.
> Respect cover both the unreal and the wise.
>
> Truth or reality...we never really
> Give it much thought.
> Maybe it was the way we are taught.
>
> Truth or reality...
> Which is Which?
>
>
> whisperkwane
>
> [email protected]
>
>
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Into Themselves
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
It becomes increasingly difficult,
To support and defend...
Those like them.
They are not molded with backbone,
Another could depend.
Fence sitters undecided,
With a self esteem dismissed.
Often are destructive to progress...
With a delaying of it.
And direct they are not.
Deceivers they tend to be.
With a seeking of attention...
To stop a process intended,
That will expose their activity...
Lacking in accountability!
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
Or the need they have to embellish,
From the shadows where they hide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Exhibit A
What appears,
Is a clear re-introduction of reality.
You can say it's Exhibit A.
The one quickly scanned...
When sweetened dreams,
Were distributed to be held...
In fat greedy hands.
Exhibit A depicted...
What would occur,
If deceit was released
To be inflicted.
But as always...
As temptations do.
Blind those who believe,
They are among the chosen few.
Those who are usually the ones left screwed.
Exhibit A...
Was not just there on display,
For folks to glance and walk away!
Exhibit A...
Though abstract!
Presented facts of discomforts.
Facts presented by those nonconforming.
Facts shouted out.
And now those degradations...
Come to visit,
Those who are being...
Economically tossed about,
In a suffering they were led to believe...
Would never be theirs to bear!
But...
No one prepared,
For Exhibit A to be harsh on them.
Not those who entertained their selfishness!
Not those who maintained and fed their whims.
Not today!
Not Exhibit A.
To begin all over again for 'them'!
And theirs.
Who flaunted their wares,
Without a mercy they cared to share!
What appears,
Is a clear re-introduction of reality.
You can say it's Exhibit A.
The one quickly scanned...
When sweetened dreams,
Were distributed to be held...
In fat greedy hands.
Now demanding full attention.
An attention that commands!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Those Insecurities Kept Encouraged
If all one knows,
Is a superficial existence...
That 'is' their reality.
And 'all' they have come to know.
A collective reality,
Had not been advantageous...
To those marketing their values,
And varieties of it to keep a greeding fed.
An image picked to have all teased with it...
Has been the only priority,
To keep division a lucrative aspect...
Of those insecurities kept encouraged to flourish.
'Nobody knows...
Those troubles I've seen.'
You want to place a bet on that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unfulfilled
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Everything but truth has been sought.
Bringing tears to dropp from many dried eyes.
Crying about their losses and wondering why?
With hollowed prayers demanding from God...
To deliver them from the onslaught of reality,
They choose to deny in its entirety.
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Unfulfilled and blindly selfish.
Self centered and disrespecting.
And still trying to make attempts to climb,
A greased ladder!
If that was possible to achieve.
But to what heights could they freely breathe?
When it is on the ground,
Where the trees provide that need.
Many have become saddened,
By the aspects of truth.
And the discomfort it has brought,
Into their seeking lives.
Some have been led to believe,
Their lives are exclusively lived.
With disregard for others.
As if their moments here on Earth,
Have annointed them more deserving!
But all that changes...
When The Creator decides,
To take away what He alone awards...
With gratitude to those He knows,
Appreciates His Love.
And bestowing upon them proof,
Of His existence.
And many can not come to do this.
To recognize their eyes,
Would not open...
If this was not the will of God!
Since they have prioritized their lives...
To be lived in indifference.
Excited by the presence of ignorance.
With a helpless attachment to conflict!
Sealed by a victory.
At the expense of remaining,
Unfulfilled!
And killing themselves,
For the thrill of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Maybe All Of Life Is Caught In Brilliant Moments
Maybe all of life is caught in brilliant moments,
when the physical and spiritual becomes one
moments of bliss, moments of true happiness
and I am remembering the times that are gone
while I struggle on in a world mixing truth and fallacy,
in love and loving and the war of these to get the upper hand
and have to make a living in a confronting kind of reality
and maybe we mortal beings do not really understand
that loving is in reality a free thing;
in lives that have been spoilt selfishly
we want to control and tame everything
and are not content in leaving things to develop naturally
but the adventure of loving and live still goes on
while in living with the pathway of life we move along.
poem by Gert Strydom
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On Hearing Of A Death
We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death
does not deal with us. We have no reason
to show death admiration, love or hate;
his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us
a false impression. The world's stage is still
filled with roles which we play. While we worry
that our performances may not please,
death also performs, although to no applause.
But as you left us, there broke upon this stage
a glimpse of reality, shown through the slight
opening through which you dissapeared: green,
evergreen, bathed in sunlight, actual woods.
We keep on playiing, still anxious, our difficult roles
declaiming, accompanied by matching gestures
as required. But your presence so suddenly
removed from our midst and from our play, at times
overcomes us like a sense of that other
reality: yours, that we are so overwhelmed
and play our actual lives instead of the performance,
forgetting altogehter the applause.
Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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Preferred Distractions
If you have recently discovered,
You have become one of many people...
Who have awakened to ask,
'What is going on? '
And you are dismayed and distraught by it?
Why concern yourself with the facts of life now?
Crawl back into your shell.
Denial hasn't kept you from redecorating.
And those in denial always find a way,
To address their beliefs to keep themselves...
In preferred distractions to attract whatever it is,
They stubbornly keep intact as a reality kept protected.
And who has the right to say,
A reality that affects the lives of everyone...
Is a reality everyone 'should' accept and MUST face?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sweetened Medications
If being honest and the living of truth,
Was not considered offensive...
By those wishing to protect,
Their prefabricated lives with high-tech weapons...
There would be more people accepting,
Not only truth...
But the reality of their existence,
Without the need for sweetened medications.
Or other false addictions to sustain selfish habits...
To maintain self centered and self righteous beliefs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not Even the Obvious Shelters Can Protect Those Afraid
It is not easy,
Being the one deceived.
Or having that done,
By more than one.
But once that is known...
The flight from it,
Can bring one a happiness.
When it is realized,
How many have accepted it.
Without comprehending...
The participants and the depth of it!
It is not easy,
Discovering the truth.
When so many deny that it exists.
Afterall...
Aren't beliefs based on non-fiction?
How can so many,
Live addicted to fiction?
But it has been done!
And to awaken from delusions,
Can stun anyone!
And this stunning when it comes...
Many will attempt to shun!
However...
This is 'reality'.
There regardless...
Who decides from it to run!
And those who were taunted,
By those who flaunted lives of lies...
Are not the ones trying to disguise,
The gloom that appears in their eyes!
A consciousness that has arrived,
Is there openly to see.
And not stunted behind masquerades...
By those in fear,
Seeking somewhere to hide!
Or somewhere to cloak,
Unspoken feelings felt inside.
These are the days,
Bare neccesities are craved.
And yet egos in self praise...
Are the ones finding the most discomfort.
But truth never hides,
Or provides charades!
Not even the obvious shelters,
Can protect those afraid!
'This is the dawning of the Age of Reality.
The Age of Re-al-ity.
Ree-al-ity!
Harmony and understanding...
And so forth and so on it goes!
And where it stops?
Nobody knows! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Disparities Seen
If one grows accustomed to a joke,
And lives it as if...
That's the only reality lived they know.
And it is.
By what they show and choose to believe.
And surrounding themselves they do,
With jesters!
To uphold such valued standards!
It is a life felt that feels most comfortable.
Those opposing 'this' reality,
Are the ones oppressed and made to fear.
Made to become subservient.
Although they are the ones,
Closer to the truth...
Of all creation!
And their lives are despised.
Otherwise there would be no disparities seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Her Truth
Your truth claims to be a reality
While her truth is the reality
Your truth is just another fallacy
While her truth states actuality
Your truth tries to call her an insurgent
Just another agent
Trying to spread hatred
When her truth really speaks for those you have murdered
For those you denied existence
After they fought for their freedom
Went to the streets to express their position
And you accused them of being destroyers
Ended their lives like they worth nothing
Your truth tried to oppress them
Suppress their voices
While her truth spoke for them
Went to the squares screaming for their liberty
Fighting for their authority
Your truth is only believed by those who shared your earnings
Those who sold their souls for the Benjamins
Used religion, race and lies to serve your purpose
While her truth refused to take it all
Her truth was so pure it refused to sell the martyrs blood
Your truth has become so little
So her truth rose above it and took over the scene
Your truth was caught out
Your truth was discovered
More and more are finding her truth
Seeing the Real Truth
And yours, of course, just wished it would have listened…
poem by Jacob Arden
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Decisions in Agreement
Reality lives in people’s heads, Terry
Pratchett says in application of
quantum physics theories
I have changed my reality so often
today, I am not sure in which
parallel reality I am
Within the knotted cable or free-
floating already in the lane of a
separate string
Weaving history while including all
its alternatives in bulging knots
that make the story interesting
The main direction never wavers, held in
place by many decisions in agreement
while the details create
As many bobbles as every dreamer
can ever wish to see…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Brewing Scent Of Freshly Made Coffee
It is no longer a matter of them telling the truth.
No...It isn't!
And it should be a concern for those who know it,
As it exists in their gut and as it has to them meant,
From observation, felt and experienced as presented...
That those who use other than truth to tell,
Actually are not convinced others are aware they lie.
Since alibis and excuses behind which they hide,
Has been something done to do all of their lives.
And their delusions have become their defense mechanisms.
But today,
Those embellishments exaggerated are easily chased away.
And facing consequences as a result of their defenses,
Has created their dilemmas and conflicts with their entitlements.
Some people will create right in the face of others,
There own versions of what is going on.
With eyes are pure as those seen coming from children.
And this isn't given as an option to express,
Their difference of opinion to address.
This comes from refusing to accept the absence of alternatives.
And what has taken place is immediately from them mentally erased.
Leaving feelings of abandonment,
By those who have been fantasized all their lives.
That is why they protest with a nonacceptance of a reality that is!
Although those realities as they are have never before to them been felt.
And no one seems to acknowledge,
The brewing scent of freshly made coffee...
There!
And everywhere in the air for all to get a deep whiff of it.
'That 'smell'?
What is it? '
~I have not a clue.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Psychotic
Some have chosen to waltz,
Through their lives.
With minimal chances taken.
And faking steps...
Clearly undetermined.
And on their terms,
A reality is accepted.
An expectation understood...
Delays a maturity stunted.
Never happening as it should.
A mindset enhanced,
Is not encouraged to flourish as it could.
A self-centeredness in a world is viewed.
This tainted nourishment is pursued.
A sense of feeling grounded is subdued.
Perplexing them in sheltered nests,
And exposes flaws they believe are hidden...
In a psychotic self deception.
No one contests this acceptance,
As a lost lesson.
Bringing to them neither peace nor rest.
Poisoned on concepts they can not resist to feed.
Social misfits like these can not perceive...
How controlled they are.
In environments they can not see,
Has no allowances for them to be free!
And that is condoned...
As if this was meant to be!
Continuing to tease a release of their own anguish!
And kept medicated on a prescribed point of view,
That keeps them hungering for lives confused.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Land Of Make Believe
Relaxing back, we dream of things
imagining they could happen some way,
a meeting taking place
in a romantic rendezvous,
falling in love with the most wonderful person of all.
Going where our imagination takes us
in our world of make believe.
Journeying away from reality,
lying on a sandy beach
where the palm trees sway,
watching the blue sparkling waters
roll lazily to the shore.
Feeling the finer things in life given to us in one go.
Some call it a pipe dream
but in reality it is our imagination set free and let go
in our world of make believe.
In reality, our lives are tied
by invisible strings that bind us.
In our imagination we are set free
from any restraints to come and go as we please,
to make ourselves that perfect world,
our heaven on earth
in our land of make believe.
28 March 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Place
There is a place
In my heart that still dances
A place in my soul that sings
- And sings, and dances and dances -
A place so deep, so set
A place that even the mundane drudgery
The routine day-to-day
Can not kill
A place so close, so distant
A place that was, and is yet to come
A place where belief originates and lives
The birth place of
The most human humanity
The most divine divinity
A place where
Majesty, mystery and magic still speak
A place of all origins.
Some will not hear it any longer.
But, I still listen...
Waiting... hoping... trusting...believing...
The Place... is real.
It's way out there - it's everywhere...
It is ever within.
This Place... is my place.
It has called to me by name
Since the day of birth,
It's name is simple and profound;
I call him
Jesus.
He calls me
'My child.'
It's to him we go.
It's for us he came.
He is where I belong.
I am always on the Way
To the Place
Where he is.
The Place... home.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Diced, Minced and Splintered
Diced, minced and splintered!
Lives sliced and divided into morsels.
Some endure a splicing...
To increase an appetitizing for survival.
On bitter crumbs sweetened.
And teased to reach for more...
Are those reminded,
They must escape those visions...
Of being amongst the poor!
'Nickeled-and-dimed'
And entwined with needs...
To embellish relished fantasies!
Images received,
From their recently purchased...
And/or leased widescreen TVs.
Feeding how they would greatly advantage,
By having more 'things' in their diminished lives.
To delude a lack of insight,
With an acquired taste for accelerated rampage!
Devoured in greed...
Throughout the day.
And craved in sleepless nights...
With minds engraved.
Mingling with those mentally damaged.
Duped and taxed in seduced acceptance.
Raving about struggles and bargain sales obtained.
So engrossed are they in portrayals of servitude!
They can not perceive themselves betrayed,
In a morality mugged...
And subconsiously maimed,
To stay that way.
An Insanity preferred,
Has been fed and served!
Diced, minced and splintered.
In an upgraded auction.
On carpeted slave blocks...
A 'steal' all must have.
In a form of modern degraded trade!
Assembled to produce a happiness.
With an infectious sickness,
That brings a grieving that leaves them...
Addicted and quite sad!
But these are lives lived.
They believe others wished they had!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blank Faces
Why are they gasping?
And looking in shock about?
'It is dawning on them,
There is a 'reality' to truth.'
Isn't reality...
The truth?
'They just discovered it.
But let's keep our faces blank.
We'll pretend we have no clue,
What they are talking about.
Here comes one now...
Rushing towards us,
Looking scared to death.
Hopefully they will run right past us.
Ready...set...GO!
Blank faces.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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“reality”
Subjective mind creates its reality
Along with a substratum of duality
Mixed with a smidgen of credulity
Yet 'neath a soul sees only totality
ROTMS
‘As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality ’
Einstein,1922
“Truth is merely a refinement of ignorance”
Nietzsche
poem by Ray Lucero
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