En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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One day the truth about what God IS,
Is going to be revealed from its masquerade.
There are those already afraid,
A pandemonium will be paraded.
Since their charaded lives...
Will be uncovered from the fraud.

And not one tailgate hotdog,
Will be served from behind an SUV.
A reality of this existence,
Is coming soon without previews...
To critique!
Or a chance to make decisions,
If it should or should not be seen...
For 'all' to see!

This major event will be remembered,
As experienced.

How is this known?
Well...
Some people actually pay attention to the signs,
As they are tossed about...
To dodge like bullets from toy guns shown!
This 'sighting' comes to magnify insights.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much Has Been Revealed

A renewal of beliefs to review to meet,
Ingredients now fed to eat is much needed.
An obscruity of that which had been valued,
Blocks steps on paved roads now used today.
Updating of standards is more specific than wished.
Too much has been revealed.

Too much has been revealed.

What was 'then' thought and taught as reality,
Has come to cast shadows on that which had existed.

Too much has been revealed.

Overwhelmed are those attempting to restrict themselves,
To lives lived in limitations.

Too much has been revealed.

A transformation is in progress.
And will not cease by those wishing with ease...
To have it swept away in defeat to critique it with ratings.
To place its significance with a label that stays.
Too much...
Has been revealed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Don't Find 'Anything' to Pick

If you want to critique,
At least make some sense of it.
Just don't find 'anything' to pick.
With beliefs you'll get a piece,
Of public attention.
That's if you want to critique!
If not...
Make your comments less dissective.
With a negativity,
That leaves your critique...
And your intentions suspected.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Pandemonium

Today tomorrow seems so far away
In the waiting lane, yeah
So safe, in the blinding light of love unchained
In yesterdays grave, yeah
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium
Afraid that everything remains unchanged
In this fragile dream, yeah
Ashamed of the shattered remains
Of promises made, yeah
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium
Trying by the enduring dream
Faith by the enduring dream
The secret cries for worrying
Now were sinking deep in sweet pandemonium
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium

song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Pandemonium

Today tomorrow seems so far away
In the waiting lane, yeah
So safe, in the blinding light of love unchained
In yesterday's grave, yeah
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium
Afraid that everything remains unchanged
In this fragile dream, yeah
Ashamed of the shattered remains
Of promises made, yeah
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium
Trying by the enduring dream
Faith by the enduring dream
The secret cries for worrying
Now we're sinking deep in sweet pandemonium
The truth I can sense so sweet
Is buried within sweet pandemonium
Concealed by disbelief
The riddle stays veiled in sweet pandemonium

song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Visitor Amongst The Unconscious

Maybe I am a bit more cynical.
With the same craving...
To taste forbidden truth.
On some days,
Yes...
That is exactly what it is I do.

I admit my insights,
Can be rather biting.
But I am not on a mission,
To identify pretentions.
There is nothing mysterious,
About them to be pursued.

They are all over the place!
Like...
Denial.
Decadence.
Thoughtle ssness and disrespect.

'Hey buddy?
Yeah you.
Watch your step!
There is a child in diapers,
Following you.
Don't you hear him calling you 'daddy' too? '

I marvel at the way,
Folks skip with a leap over reality.
To embrace with a welcoming,
Any sign of deceit that is greeted warmly.
With an ignoring of those hungry and homeless,
Surrounding them on the streets.
As if this pasttime entertains,
To become remembered as a bitterness...
Eventually endeared as sweet.

And pretend,
Most do...
As if this is part of the scenery.

I admit my insights,
Can be rather biting.
But I am not on a mission,
To identify pretentions.
There is nothing mysterious,
About them to be pursued.

They are as common as pigeons.
Or garbage on the streets...
People accept as signs of affection!

Maybe I am a bit more cynical.
With the same craving...
To taste forbidden truth.
On some days,
That is exactly what it is I do.
And feeling very much...
A visitor amongst the unconscious.

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Truth and Reality (Opinion)

Daily at the end of my "anusthaanam"-(spiritual ritual) ", I make a strong, fervent and sincere prayer to the Divinity that intellectuals and scholars in the world should be fearless and speak the truth without any inhibitions. This has been the tradition of our ancestors and speaking truth is essential for the benefit of the society and the society will be able to know the actualities and act on them.
Normally the rulers do not like the truth to be known. Also leaders of ideologies, religions, their supporters and the like also do not like the truth to be known to the ordinary people. The writers are normally and should be fearless such that the ills and evils in the society are exposed and remedial measures are taken. But what is truth?
Truth is what it is or as it is irrespective of perceptions of the individuals. Reality is what we see of truth; how much we see of truth. Reality is always dictated by our mental make-up, likes, dislikes, limitations in our ability and willingness to see, view, comprehend and accept the truth. Reality is individual's perception of the truth. Truth, most of the times, is only perceived and rarely understood or experienced. Thus reality is limited truth. Reality is either inability to be truthful or inability and limitations of the individual to see the truth unbiased. Also truth corresponds to the individual, about himself, his Self and the reality corresponds to the objective world within and without the body of the individual.
Real situations are compromised states of existence in the attempt of pursuit of the truth. We all talk about truth limited by our perception and not the truth most of the times. We have compulsions inbuilt, acquired or imagined not to accept the truth and allow truth to be spoken or spread through us. But truth is a flowing river. It may flood us but it never dries up. On the other the reality is like a stagnated lake. Our fear of repercussions taking place if we speak, accept or propagate truth, make us real and not truthful. We prefer peaceful and calm life. We call that realistic approach and adjust and compromise.
Thus, most of the times, we are not truthful. We are all limited and confined to our perceptions of truth. Truth is best revealed when understood or experienced. But we rarely get such insight. All our knowledge and information is hearsay through books, newspapers, magazines, radio and TV news channels, web sites etc, . We are all aware that these books and news items are filtered through the editors and owners of these media. Thus the perceptions of these responsible and financing individuals decide the truth content in the item. We pick up these as truth and argue or form our own perceptions. Sometimes the editorial policy of the editors or owners of these media do not allow truth as it is to reach us when they find it objectionable in that form. Thus truth is never completely known or allowed to be known and hence not completely comprehended. The fears, imaginations, illusions shape our perceptions and our comprehension of the truth. Many times it appears that no absolute truth exists or known, perceived or understood and experienced. Just as feelings and perceptions of good and bad and other qualities, truth is also relative as "truth to me", "truth to him", "truth to you", "truth to them" and a truth accepted by all is not possible and available to be expressed, accepted or spread and we all mistake our perceptions of truth as truth without understanding or experiencing the truth. But truth is like fire. It can not be hidden or held in hand.

the palm. Truth sneaks through our cautions and suppression and declares itself.

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Resistance To Its Existence

Only those who have discovered the truth,
For what it really is...
Can no longer submit to denial.
Or masquerade the experiencing of pain.
Pain has a way of making personal,
Its visitations...
When the prolonging of a resistance,
To its existence...
Is revealed in the feeling of it.
With an intended healing,
From all that had been delusioned.

And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!

And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants,
Subdued...
In a resistance to truth's existence.

And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Refusing the acceptance of truth...
Is observed subdued,
In a resistance to its existence.

And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
In a resistance to truth's existence.
While attempting to escape from its insistence.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Midst Of Creating Conflict

Wishing for a past to return to relive,
Has to be those wishes made by the ones...
Doing a procrastinating done.
They did it then and still do now.

And there are many living,
Who believe they are owed to be served.
As if for no other reason they exist.
To live to criticized to bemoan their failures.

And the ones who go unnoticed,
With a sacrificing done to condone...
Take no one or anything for granted.
With a doing not to complain or it shown.

And...
Often those believing they are owed to be served,
Are in the midst of creating conflict...
Anywhere they are allowed to critique and whine.

With a finding of doing this as fulfilling their purpose.
As if to make their presence known.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Unaffected By Personal Critique

To do that which one seeks done,
Often has nothing to do with receiving attention.
And...
The attention given to what one does,
May be the result of the deed.
And only the deed.
Not the doings of the doer to keep an ego pleased.

Confusing those who critique the doer...
As those deeds of the doer increases in value.
Leaving those who critique,
Confused and misunderstanding...
Why the doer continues to beem and dance,
Unaffected...
By personal critique.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Ask Me to Critique

When you ask me to critique,
With an opinion that is honest.
Don't expect me to deceive you...
With a sweetened tongue.
And the taste I leave you...
Hints of a bit of salt.
As you prepare to deliver to me pepper.

When you ask me to critique...
I go for the meat.
Not the heat,
When one may be wishing to be honey dipped.
Or perhaps thrown a kiss!

When you ask me to critique,
There is no sweetness dripped!
Unless the offering is fantastic.
And hits a spot I can not resist...
But sit,
And enjoy every nibble of it!
When you ask me to critique.

That's what I will do!
But I rather not to.
Since like you...
I don't enjoy everything I am served.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Creator's Tests

A boldness to live escapes them.
Afraid to offend they are.
A fantasized existence is persisted,
And subdues.
A truth eludes their presence.
In an unhappiness they reflect.
Too much of it has confused.
A stubbornness has created their mental illness!
A truth within them is abused.
A deluded frame of mind they protect.
As if this is not revealed and viewed.
And they pray to God to keep their visions.
But what God decides they neglect!
They wish God to listen to them and their desires.
But they give Him no respect.
They choose to keep their eyes closed tight.
Hoping a miracle will come to remove their regret!
They want their insights to be classified as best.
Believing they are The Creator,
Instead of The Creator's tests!
They leech upon the Earth as pests.
And this they can not accept.
But they are.
We all are in this illusion!
This illusion is evolving.
It does not rest!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Signs of Turning Around

Many are discovering their thoughts and beliefs...
Have been totally prefabricated,
To sustain delusion based fantasies.
And entertained for humor purposes...
By those creating their own opportunities.
And doing this successfully...
With the power of deceit.
And the teasing of greed.

Shocked and dismayed by the truth that is.
Some have never experience...
The value of reality.
Or an honesty known...
Shown by one who around them lives.

And this economic meltdown...
Has no signs of turning around at all.
Even those who pray with faith...
They will be saved.
With a hope that these days,
From them will be erased.
Are in for a traumatic wakeup call!
When they realize their entire lives...
Have been fantasized and faked!
To keep them blinded,
For an eventual downfall!

'That's pure BS and utter nonsense! '

Is it?
When was the last time Minnie or Mickey Mouse..
Paid 'you' a visit?
And you have sat with empty pockets,
To ensure your children sit quietly...
To pay attention to animated animals speak,
And teach intelligently
About the aspects of human life.
Either at the movies or in front of a TV!

'That's entirely different! '

IS IT?
Then why is truth so feared?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Guns

Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny soldiers, with little guns
Little tanks, no bigger than your thumb
They want you
Little people, with tiny brains
Little bullets flowing, in their veins
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
They want you, you
You, you, you, you
Little airplanes, with tiny bombs
Little squadrons, dropping thimbles of napalm
They want you
What do they want?
What do they want?
Tiny people, with little guns
Little armies march, to little drums
You, you
You, you, you, you
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns
Tiny people, little guns

song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afraid?

Too many people are afraid to speak.
Is it because they're too damned weak?
Afraid to stand out
afraid to shout
or just plain afraid and meek?

Too many people are afraid to yell.
Is it because they're afraid of hell?
Afraid of the crowd,
afraid to be loud
or just plain afraid of death's knell?

Too many people are afraid to hear.
Is it because of what they fear?
Afraid of the unknown,
afraid to be shown
or just plain afraid of what isn't clear?

Fear, fear
It is always here.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The people who make policy decisions should damned well know what they are talking about before they make the decisions. There is nobody who is an expert on cloning who would be afraid after seeing Attack of the Clones.

quote by Kevin J. Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stuck Like Glue

You are quite different,
Than what I had expected.

'Who and what did you expect? '

Based on rumors and gossip heard,
You are nothing like that at all...
An injustice has been served.

'Oh?
Not at all.
You must not look at it that way.
I see it as an opportunity...
To get those the attention that they seek.'

I do see this from your point of view.
And after meeting you...
I can understand,
There may be some jealousy and backbiting...
Those who are envious make known in their pursuits.'

'I can not stop doing what I do...
Just to chase little children,
Making grumpy noises as they masquerade...
Jumping up and down to get attention,
Dressed in their monster suits to do a 'BOO'!
I thank God maturity is on my mind,
With an obligation that keeps me stuck like glue! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Honesty Is Felt And Seen

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

You say the people don't re-act the way you expect.
But...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

Any 'thing' said to you upsets and affects,
'Cause...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

You say the people don't re-act the way you expect.
But...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept...
An honesty is felt and seen.

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