Definitions That Evolve
As is now defined...
Time and our minds change.
So do definitions that evolve,
To erase and lift limited restrictions.
Leaving us to redefine meaning.
And why we exist,
To fable our lives lived...
With a fictitiousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lives Limited In Meaning
Could this be an estimation,
Underestimated...
To leave,
The mind's eye blind?
And stay myopic.
And could it be decisions,
Are made to make attempts...
To redefine,
These times...
And stay erotic.
For reasons not to find a rhyme,
To give.
And for many to feel more confined,
To live...
Lives that are limited,
In meaning!
Could this be an estimation,
Underestimated...
To leave,
The mind's eye blind?
And stay myopic.
And could it be decisions,
Are made to make attempts...
To redefine,
These times...
And stay erotic.
For many to feel more confined,
To live...
Lives that are limited,
In meaning.
For many to feel more confined,
To live...
Lives that are limited,
In meaning.
Lives limited in meaning,
To give...
Reasons not to find a rhyme,
To live...
Lives limited in meaning!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Flesh Branded
Prestigious,
Are those ties to bind kept.
Those sworn to be professed,
In a separateness.
To award with symbolic,
Images on flesh branded.
And meant to keep them above the rest.
As if they've been given,
Rights to digest a magnificentness.
And these folks like pests,
Have infested neighborhoods.
To implement a mental illness.
Leaving a shredded unity.
And yet they have beliefs.
Tied to a materialistic,
Bond that diseases.
But like an addict on drugs,
Minds like these are limited.
And do no good within restrictions,
That rot as they sit.
To eventually perish...
With meaningless lives lived,
They've chosen to inherit.
'Have no other gods before ME! '
Sayeth The Almighty.
Collector of ALL Souls.
'If you do...
Never will you enter MY Kingdom.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Attached To A Retro-Fitness
Attached to a retro-fitness...
Like a face that has been lifted.
Prepared and equipped,
To manufacture again anything...
Resembling one's comfort with it,
Is a wish for many to pretend their lives...
Do not with an aging process exist.
With a reality now speeding ahead as it is...
Ushered quickly away from their minds,
That will erase to take the place...
All signs of the times now lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Is...?
What is the meaning of hate?
Is it the dislike of someone different than you?
Or is it the loathing of something simple like broccoli?
What is the meaning of discrimination?
Is it the hatred of someone of a different background?
The hatred of skin color;
Or is it the bitter taste of being different from everyone else?
What is the meaning of uniqueness?
Is it the purpose of being odd and unusual?
The adaptation to your own life and style;
Or is it the stereotypical clan that society has put you?
What is the meaning of life?
Is it that time keeps moving; leaving us in the dust is leaves behind?
The endless stream of consciousness that everything has;
Or is it the meaningless and indefinable thing we give every day?
What is the meaning of death?
Is it that grim reaper knocking at your door?
The inky blackness of nothing;
Or is it something that can’t be defined only experienced when it is time?
Many questions are asked everyday without even meaning to ask them.
They are hidden within the minds of those who are too afraid to speak out;
To let THEIR voices be heard.
So I ask you these questions in hope that you will ask them yourself;
To find the meaning of it for yourself and not what others say it is.
One final question is all I leave you with.
What is the meaning of everything that you thought you knew?
poem by Regan Meade
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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
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How Do You Use Your Gifts?
I'm using my blessings and faith,
To create identifiable miracles.
And you?
How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.
And what they have manage to materialize,
Makes you jealous and mad?
Your selfishness is pathetic!
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Regardless of how It Is Perceived
There is a right time for some.
And a wrong time for others,
For 'some' things to be done...
Kept defined in minds pressured,
Unable to unwind.
And there seems never a time,
We determine to keep...
Nourished with a flourishing,
All the time.
With a manifesting of happiness.
Regardless of how time is perceived,
As a limited fit...
To adjust to a scheduling done to it.
Wouldn't it be wonderful,
If you and not time became the benefactor of life?
And it came looking to find you.
And you were too busy to look for it.
Or cared if it was found.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Few Who Did Not, Knew
'...and when they decided to remain themselves.
Keeping things the same and expecting it.
Deeper into darkness they went.
Expecting gifts to quickly unwrap.
Becoming dissatisfied...
With a wish to give them back!
And not appreciating the one who gave them!
And that's a fact!
Very few attempted,
To expand from their limited restrictions.
And embrace the change they faced.
They believed for them this would be a waste of time.
And in time...
They did waste their minds.
And the few who did not...
Knew as they grew! '
~Grandpa...
That was 'not' a Christmas Story! ~
'You told me to tell you a 'story'.
You said nothing about Christmas!
And besides...
Grandpa does the best he can.
And I want you to realize that! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Browbeaters Are Out In Droves
Those browbeaters are out in droves.
With their voices raised high
Proposing to keep,
Fantasies kept about their lives
Free of restrictions
Those browbeaters protest,
With an exposing of their selfishness.
And demand an attention to focus on their needs.
Regardless of the sacrificing done,
Of those historically
Forced to exist to please on bended knees.
Browbeaters like these,
Insist their standards valued should be those
Unopposed by the ones seeking,
To diminish inequities.
The ones with a consciousness
With beliefs that equality benefits humanity.
Those browbeaters are out in droves.
With their voices raised high
Proposing to keep,
Fantasies kept about their lives
Free of restrictions.
But those restrictions must limit
The feeding of greed,
That has depleted with a decreasing
All aspects of the economy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Doesn't Seem It But Believe
It doesn't seem it but believe,
The time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe,
The time has flown so fast.
One minute we are wiping a nose.
And the next second...
It seems,
We're now all old.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe the time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe the time has flown so fast.
Was it yesterday we said hello,
To the one we wanted to do that...good rock and roll.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
The time has flown so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
Some thoughts we have we should let pass.
You cain't change a game played when it's over.
Nor can you redefine a lover who has gone to another.
Yes as cruel as it can be,
To see a time we lived to see flee fast.
From a rocking seat!
Yes as cruel as it can be,
To see a time we lived to see flee fast.
It doesn't seem it but believe it that the time has flown so fast
From a rocking seat!
You cain't change a game played when it's over.
Nor can you redefine a lover who has gone to another.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
From a rocking seat!
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
The time has flown so fast.
From a rocking seat!
It doesn't seem it,
But believe...
Some thoughts we should have let go pass.
From a rocking seat!
And there we sit by a window looking older.
With plans to feed a cat,
At the back door.
Who meows for leftovers.
It doesn't seem that the time has flown away so fast.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Named And Stamped With A Brand
Limited interpretations,
Appeal only to those who are appeased.
And kept they are to view their lives,
Manifested to accept that which symbolizes images.
And what for them an image represents.
With a keeping of images limited to interpretation.
And if a depiction in their minds can not be defined,
It is dismissed as worthless.
Until a place for it is found to be labelled,
As an entity to be named and stamped with a brand.
To then be sold as a needed commodity.
With a familiar repeating done of subliminal marketing.
'Whew! What a relief.
We thought we had to accept it as is.
Having its own separate identity.
And that would be too mind altering,
For the limits we have set for our beliefs.
And right now we can not afford expansion.
It's difficult enough as it is to maintain 'some' control.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lost
I did not come from a place,
To have my credentials certified.
With proof I qualify to be limited.
To then sit and become upset by this.
And this may be a disappointment,
To those who believe I can be affected that way.
But I have yet to see anything cemented,
That proves restrictions are fixed to stay.
I did not come from a place,
To have my credentials certified.
With proof I qualify to be limited.
To then sob with a weeping because of it.
Limitations and restrictions,
Are for those who follow them.
As conformists accepted collectively.
To discover they have paid the cost,
With the finding of themselves bewildered.
And lost.
In a professed confessed unity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Surfaced Emptiness
I close my eyes...
And no boundaries appear.
I open them and quickly see...
Restrictions that are limited.
And labels placed,
That are believed.
Although unclear...
To one who perceives.
I feel emotions,
But taught them not to express.
I am confused by those,
Who have open conversations.
But only to address,
A surfaced emptiness.
I close my eyes...
And no boundaries appear.
I open them and quickly see...
Restrictions that are limited.
And labels placed,
That are believed.
Although unclear...
To one who perceives.
I question with answers expected.
Although I am told,
Curiosity killed the cat.
But if cats have nine lives to live...
Why should my questions,
Threaten death like that?
I am not a cat.
I want to learn!
And that's a fact.
I've stumbled and fell,
To my knees that were scraped.
Most of what I've comprehended,
Has been done by making mistakes.
And if 'censoring' teaches anything at all...
It teaches that one man's truth,
Could get him exclusively blackballed!
How hypocritical can the expression be...
'Do as I say!
And not as I do! '
Mean to today's youth...
On pursuit,
To living lives wholesomely!
Senseless without a point,
Seems this journey!
Senseless without a point,
To hunger with a yearning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Acceptance and Compliancy
Acceptance is not the same as compliancy.
Although both definitions suggest flexibility.
Acceptance is done after comprehension comes.
And one compliant seems to be more submissive,
Technically.
With actions that are specific,
To what is defined and made understood.
And one who accepts definitions,
May argue with an understanding...
That attention and answers are expected to be given,
When asked!
With someone 'qualified' to deliver what appeases.
Or no one sleeps!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fitting Conditions One Accepts
Look for them.
Definitions!
They will be there.
Used for what they are...
To become redefined,
To suit minds seeking reason.
On their terms.
To find a value that expresses,
One's way of life.
To either correct or ignore,
What is right.
To apply these definitions...
Fitting conditions one accepts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Horse You Named Clarence Has Died
There are those who are handed definitions,
To relate to as a designation.
And there are those who create definitions,
That describe the times that move forward with change.
Those who make attempts to keep things remaining the same,
Will always find their standards kept...
To use as proper etiquette,
Outdated and sought to replace on someone's menu.
Especially those needing a crash course,
In updating slow minds.
And there 'is' one that just may do the job!
One that is ideal to leave old thoughts behind.
Entitled:
Those Wheels Don't Roll On Cobblestone Anymore;
And That Horse You Named Clarence Has Died.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Qualified As Ascertained
Time has a way of shifting around,
That which had seemed to be grounded.
And found to be significant with influence.
Once upon a time,
When a climbing above others...
Was a focus and priority on many minds.
To suddenly change direction,
With a spotlighting of that which had been dismissed.
To allow that to become,
Declared more precious than gold.
Leaving those to flaunt a uselessness held,
That seemed just moments ago...
Qualified as ascertained,
To have impeccable credentials...
That only a few chosen to be interviewed,
Had obtained.
To be made to feel there was an achievement,
Reached.
With a leaving of that which had been dismissed.
Now sought after as if their lives depended on it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Imploding From An Overload
Imploding from an overload,
Of cloak and dagger misdeeds.
And leaving a trail to hail these acts,
As a means to trace back to times...
Corruption defined the feeding of greed.
And today the uninformed are led to believe,
Their lives lived without deceit...
Diminishes an accustomed quality.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Spending Of Their Time
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives.
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
Hopefully,
They will come to realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
No one can be all-knowing,
If one has never been alone.
Or have been on their own...
To know the true meaning of self-evaluation.
Or value emotional devastation.
If one has not,
Opened up that lock.
If no one takes the time to stop,
To take 'inventory' of their stock...
That seems for them to never come,
With a dropping of a blocking...
That stuns and shocks.
They will never know,
How this affects and hurts one so!
Those me-me, I-I activities...
Isolates the mind.
Sickens the body.
And darkens a lost soul.
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives...
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
And...
In time,
When they are left confined...
Behind.
With no one concerned...
What it is in their lives,
Or on their minds.
They will come to learn to yearn!
In the spending of,
Their time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On One Road
If people in places where jealousies exist,
Have no original thoughts of their own or common sense...
An attempt to dilute what is presented takes place.
With a making less effective,
Those benefits for all that could initiate...
A unified doing with a purpose that does not exclude.
Yet...
There are those who prefer,
A continued fast pace of the spreading of ignorance...
That eliminates an awakening to erase comprehension.
And ensuring minds confined are further left behind.
With a keeping of stereotypical images less difficult to find,
And easily found to adapt to definitions confusing the mission.
This is similar to establishing 'one' deity to worship,
But pleasing all who happen to see...
The 'pieces' instead of the whole.
And...
A way to worship this 'deity' differently to appease,
Those who will agree they have come to travel on one road.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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