Crimes Against Humanity
It is clearly shown,
We've allowed and condoned...
Crimes against humanity,
By those who proclaim
They act to protect their own.
And we watch this evilness,
As if this way is best!
But no confession,
Will digest these transgressions
When the truth is revealed...
And known!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Digestive Darkness And Light
life is a mixture of light, darkness and truth
but are you digested on them?
digest what you see
digest what you feel
digest what you smell
digest what you touch
digest what you eat
digest what you think
digest what you speak
and you will be a truth by yoursekf
but but but but but but but but but
NEVER DIGEST YOUR DREAM
Quickens Its Own Demise
A shallowness connected,
And shared with limited mentalities...
Quickens its own demise.
This is not shown,
Until a visitor from the unknown is made.
And only then does an end,
To sophisticated ignorance shown...
Saves others from demons,
Hiding from the innocent in darkness!
In an overblown self induced superiority.
Where a slick wickedness is practiced and condoned!
And they undo themselves with an honorable skill.
And when revealed...
Squeal like children discovered doing evil deeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Has Been Revealed
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Free To Be Filthy
No regard or sign of respect.
Raised on material values...
And ideals they neglect.
Just for a dollar,
They have turned the world into a mess.
Free to be filthy.
And a scum achieved...
Has been their best effort yet!
Mongers of hate...
With absence of thought!
Taught by a society,
Seeped in delusions brought!
And yet they believe their lifestyles appeal!
As they trash humanity,
With an allowed zest and zeal!
Creeps and leechers...
Seeking attention they get!
Representing sleaze,
As a determined conquest!
And those who wished...
At a time,
To correct all of this...
Watch as bystanders,
Stepping over to avoid
All the crap that exists.
Others seem consciously accepting,
And so quick to digest...
Disgusting appearances,
With a filth nourished without protest!
And this diseased way of life...
Spreads like an uncurable cancer.
No opponent in battle is winning this fight!
Mindsets have been condoned,
To avoid any insight!
Fed on destruction.
To eliminate the good,
From lives no one wants to live as it should.
And 'threatened' by all,
That living right might ignite...
In goodwill, peace and brotherhood,
Feeding on this appetite.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When They Moan
When they moan...
They are much upset.
And beset in troubled homes.
When they moan...
Storm clouds have arrived.
And they can not hide,
Their groans.
When they moan!
Fed up by the rise of lies,
Told about but denied.
And there is no where to put aside their pride,
When they moan.
With a besetting that upsets them...
In their troubled homes.
And displeasures once unknown are shown.
As they gather to scatter chatter,
That droans.
When they moan.
In voices now condoned,
They moan.
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
From their homes.
Aye curumba!
Leaving no one left alone,
When the moaning droans.
Aye curumba!
In voices now condoned...
They moan.
Aye curumba!
With a groaning shown and known,
When they moan!
Dedicated:
To my Latino brothers and sisters,
experiencing injustices 'anywhere'...
all one day will be well.
Your struggles have not gone unnoticed.
And your contributions are duly noted!
I love you.
~LSP~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Biggest Disaster
What 'is' unfortunate?
The capitalization of the word DENIAL.
And the tremendous affect the act of it,
Has had on the millions of those who have been shown...
A protection from truth will produce for them a reality.
And a denial pursued is what all should do!
However,
In the doing...
Denial 'now' has become too huge of a magnitude,
To disregard...
As the biggest disaster ever allowed to be created,
Humanity has come to face!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
State of Emergency
Vacant minds.
Fat behinds.
Gossiped innuendos,
As rampant as crime...
Defining today's times!
Pesty racists.
Bigotry freed.
Bleeding done by everyone,
To spread fed philosophies.
It's a state of emergency,
Declared, announced and condoned!
A state of emergency inflicted on humanity.
Forget about peace!
There is none on the horizon...
Whether sunrise or sunset shown!
Vacant minds.
Fat behinds.
Gossiped innuendos,
As rampant as crime...
Defining today's times!
Pesty racists.
Bigotry freed.
Bleeding done by everyone,
To spread fed philosophies.
It's a state of emergency,
Declared, announced and condoned!
A state of emergency inflicted on humanity.
Forget about peace!
There is none on the horizon...
Whether sunrise or sunset shown!
'Shelter anyone? '
Jokes like these should be left alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
True confessions
In my youth I was often told
That confession is good,
good for the soul.
In a darkened wooden booth
I was expected to tell the truth.
First a good act of contrition,
Confession and then absolution
Penance would be meted out
Thus expiation came about.
Nowadays that’s thought
Old fashioned.
My local barkeep
hears my confession.
Of course he grants no absolution,
He pours Absinthe
and shows compassion.
And I may or may not
Tell the truth
While contemplating
The Absolute.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Options of Deceit
I would find truth offensive too...
If I had not allowed myself a break,
From my delusions.
And what I discovered about truth...
Had me dilute those delusions,
Until I was able to let them go completely.
I did not know truth and honesty...
Were not options of deceit?
Did you?
I believed deceit was used,
To protect those afraid to be too honest.
And I had heard that truth hurts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An End to Divisiveness
An end to divisiveness...
And politics based on fear,
Is closing in.
This idealogy embraced for generations...
Has an opporitunity,
To finally disappear.
Those raised on us,
Versus 'they' and 'them' strategies...
To conquer and win.
Are witnessing those lapses of gaps,
Being bridged to seal...
A humanity fed on conflict.
A humanity fed on superiority motives...
Based on one's color of skin,
Coming to an end.
People sliced into diced pieces,
Now can fight to chase fears.
Sending that and other nonsense conflicts...
On a flight to forever vanish.
Sending it away to disappear.
If minds are allowed to awaken...
To remove the clouds from eyes,
To have their visions cleared.
Inspite those who will for purposes continue...
A desperate need,
To keep things falling apart.
To feed the delicious taste...
Of an evilness they've been fed to breed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crimes Of The Mind
Bigger than man walking on the moon
Coming to a theatre near you soon
This is what Im living for
You get a little bit
And you want a little more
Everything is fine
Crimes of the mind
I drink a little wine
Crimes of the mind
Heres to modern times
Crimes of the mind
Every dog will have its day
And all these dogs just want to play
You will reap what you sow
But the real truth we will never know
Everything is fine
Crimes of the mind
I drink a little wine
Crimes of the mind
Heres to modern times
Crimes of the mind
Rolling in the grime
Crimes of the mind
Digging for a dime
Crimes of the mind
Blind leading the blind
Crimes of the mind
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Truth About Lying
A lie and the truth are one in the same, both are necessary allow me to explain.
Some say the truth will set you free, but that “some” is no part of me.
My truth in your eyes is blasphemy, the truth being that I even lie to me.
Mistakes are errors left uncorrected, also known as opportunities neglected.
The truth is always the first expected. A lie is born from the truth rejected.
Truth is a word so infected by the mouths of those who so diligently protect it.
The very people who refuse to accept it.
My truth is mine and it changes all of the time, thus I protect it by lying.
Not to myself but to everyone else and never with any bad intentions
Never out of disparity for attention, only to avoid a preconceived misconception
poem by Tessa Hanson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Protect Me From What I Want
Its that desease of the age
Its that desease that we crave
Alone at the end of the race
We catch the last bus home
Corporate america wakes
Coffee republic in case
We open the latch on the gate
Of the hole that we call our home
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Maybe were victims of fate
Remember when wed celebrate
Wed drink and get high until late
And now were all alone
Wedding bells aint gonna chime
With both of us guilty of crime
And both of us sentenced to time
And now were all alone
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Confess
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I feel I have a need,
And I please My Father...
With deeds I attempt,
And some not successfully...
My Father decides,
To then surprise.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
When I pray each day,
And express my gratefulness...
I don't take for granted,
Those blessings from My Father...
I know from Him I get.
When I find I struggle,
And I am wet with sweat...
I am comforted by My Father,
Who then allows...
My peace and rest.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
Before Him I place no 'thing' I value more.
Before My Father,
I profess a love for him that is adored.
My loyalty and devotion,
Is given without thought.
And My Father and I...
Tackle those obstacles,
He assists me to abort.
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
And nothing do I have do I take for granted.
I know from 'WHOM' my gifts have come.
I know from 'WHOM' has 'allowed' this to be done!
It is true.
I confess.
I have been spoiled.
And My Father,
The Almighty...
Knows this confession best.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where Did the Whistle Blowers Go?
Where did the whistle blowers go?
Those who spoke truth,
Like those troops who fought...
In pursuit to protect.
Returning to a homeland,
Where they are shown disrespect...
And much neglect.
By those who champion insanity!
Not humanity.
Where did the whistle blowers go?
Those who attempted to show and keep you,
From being 'downsized' with jobs 'outsourced'.
The ones you were convinced,
To divorce while you sat to straddle fences.
It all now makes sense doesn't it?
But it is clear the ones you help to rid...
Aren't near to hear or support to share your whine!
Leaving you with plenty of time,
To do that effectively alone on your own!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Decaying As It Is
I could never excuse,
Something that I've done.
To anyone for sport and fun.
Like the lawfulness of hunting...
That gives one a license to kill!
But abusive ignorance is condoned.
With a movement allowed...
That does not forgive.
And a society decaying as it is...
Continues to market its own decadence!
With escapes to lay the blame on terrorists.
As a prioritized 'short list' of deeds to accomplish,
Is void of virtues that do not exist!
Not as they should...
On streets in the 'hood!
Or reflected in suburban self righteousness.
Where there is a true crisis impending.
Those minds have long been bent.
To believe they are the center of the universe.
I could never excuse,
Something that I've done.
To anyone for sport and fun.
Like the lawfulness of hunting...
That gives one a license to kill!
But abusive ignorance is condoned.
With a movement allowed...
That does not forgive.
And thrive like so many,
On a hatred that lives!
Decaying as it is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Strength Overshadows
Dulling are those thorns,
Once sharpened to prick.
Dulled are their effectiveness,
With a wounding done...
One has learned to heal from quick.
Scars once shown,
Have disappeared.
Without a trace of them at all.
And those victimized stand,
From a crawl to walk ever so tall.
Dulling are those thorns,
Once sharpened to prick.
As if deceivers have been revealed...
From the crevices of their wickedness.
And this exposure has left them sick.
When one chooses to ignore their critics,
A strength overshadows...
Those maneuvering in darkness,
To inflict their evilness.
Leaving them to surface with...
Useless intentions left upon tight and silent lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the Raising of Their Own Children
Those that do not play an active role,
In the raising of their own children...
But appear from nowhere,
To claim bragging rights.
When discovered 'their' child...
Stands under a spotlight.
Should not be offended when sent,
A 'Thank You' card by a son or daughter.
Someone has shown them how to express,
An appreciation for being abandoned.
And given an opportunity to feel blessed.
Some children have a right to express that,
As an option.
Not an expectation.
And some parents should not be allowed,
To proclaim that at all.
Especially when the doing of it isn't done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!