Discreeted Deceit Defeats You
Your shame now shows a blemish.
You would like to diminish,
The exposure of it all.
But pretensions have dressed
An unconfessed illness manifested!
A cure has been found...
To surround with a painful healing.
Discreeted deceit defeats you!
And the leeches that have chosen to keep
Denials as a weapon to defend weaknesses...
Are shown to have fed their needs on division!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
An Effectiveness That Has Manifested
What is not liked?
A clear weeding of deceit.
What is not appreciated?
An exposure of greed,
Disclosed for all to see.
What is becoming more understood?
Those wishing to turn back time,
If they could.
To ensure all interests were invested,
In humanity and goodwill.
Instead of creating a hated that kills,
With an effectiveness that has manifested...
No caring to share knowledge and skills.
And...
Done with less praying under steeples...
With a hidden reason to treason the people.
What is not liked?
A clear weeding of deceit.
What is not appreciated?
An exposure of greed,
Disclosed for all to see.
And a decadence that has gone on...
In sacred places,
Basking in hypocrisies!
Leaving no solid foundations...
For those who follow,
With hollow beliefs.
Leaving no solid foundations...
For those who follow,
Feeling an emptiness they grieve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sabotage As Weaknesses
They would love to blame every blemish they have,
On him or her.
Them or those.
Their successes are interpreted as defeats.
They seek to discourage any positive beliefs.
And yet very quietly...
They sob tears with sighs,
That are heard behind closed doors.
Not to expose regretted emotions.
None to interpret as theirs...
But 'yours'.
Wishing not to have their insecurities made public.
As they admonish others for abilities...
They sabotage as weaknesses...
That feed to them their strengths.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Painful Solitude
Painful rejection
Your silence speaks volumes
Solitary dove flies alone,
Looking for a place to belong,
She is lost, heart full of pain
Will she ever be able to sing again?
Painful illness
My body agony
My mind endures
Painful isolation
Painful solitude
Painful loneliness
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Regardless of My Needs
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
Does not set well with my adult outlook.
Since I know what it takes,
To pave the path I make.
No one has held my hand,
To prevent mistakes I took like a man.
And I can not stomach those who fake,
Heartbreak because of situations they create.
Or try to diminish their disasters done to others...
As nothing more than an oversighted blemish.
And hear them make attempts,
To run from their misdeeds like wimps!
I'm not living my life to run and hide.
Nor will I take the time to listen to others' sigh!
The strides I've taken...
I took as I cried.
Perhaps that is why,
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I deny.
And will not satisfy those weaknesses,
I put aside.
When I realize I alone,
Must comfort the healing of my own sorrows!
No one else but me condones!
Yesterday, even now and tomorrow.
Afterall...
I am a man.
And a man is 'suppose' to withstand,
Any stinging pain!
Inflicted with sealed lips.
At least that's what I'm told,
As I conceal my agonies!
With an expectation...
That others can dump theirs upon me just the same!
Regardless of my needs!
Or if I bleed.
My wounds I must contain!
And pretend my feelings have not been changed!
It is all insane.
But if I expose the pain I hold...
I must endure the shame!
That's why I make no announcements to maintain,
Or claim...
My manhood!
As I interpret it to be.
And given to me to explore!
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I ignore.
Dedicated:
To those of us who are expected to 'understand'
without an ounce of 'that' expressed to us!
We must realize there is a 'blessing' involved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Relentless 'Me-Me-I' Relationships
I see you there aware and perfect.
With not a blemish hidden,
To deform what God gives.
I see you challenged with a missing limb.
And not a burden shown,
To diminish the Sun beaming on your grin.
I see your eyes invite me inside,
To share meaningful thoughts with you.
And I accept quickly your hospitality.
Rare that it is when so many are involved,
In relentless 'me-me-I' relationships!
And themselves so deeply involved and committed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Union Cures The Illness
For any illness,
The symptoms and signs are within oneself, but
The cure is obtaining medicines from source outside;
Whereas,
For the illness of a well jeweled mistress
Who is longing for union with lover,
She herself is the medicine,
Union cures the illness.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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To cure the British disease with socialism was like trying to cure leukaemia with leeches.
quote by Margaret Thatcher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barren Trees Without Leaves
There is a wish you admit,
That I should in you believe.
And I should accept your weaknesses,
To keep my own hidden and unconfessed.
Allowing a tranquility uncontested,
Between you and me.
With an understanding I should accept.
But I can not live my life,
On needles and pins.
And step lightly...
As if not to break eggshells.
As you do what you please.
While I quiet my own unattended needs.
To cater to yours.
Should I usher you through the door?
Or should I waste not a haste,
By rushing through it quick.
To save myself from continued foolishness!
There is a wish you admit,
That I should in you believe.
And I should accept your weaknesses,
To keep my own hidden and unconfessed.
Allowing a tranquility uncontested,
Between you and me.
With an understanding I should accept.
I thought I loved you!
But you could never address...
Occupying a vacancy,
That warrants an end to my loneliness.
Should I usher you through the door?
Or should I waste not a haste,
By rushing through it quick.
To save myself from continued foolishness!
And...
For some reason,
I am not expecting recommendations...
You suggest.
It is best I see...
Not only the forest,
But the barren trees without leaves.
Or a branch that will stay connected,
To a happiness missed and wished desired.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cure For Me
I acquire the cure for my ills,
The solution is final for my illness.
It is death that resides in the middle of life,
I ignore when I am like a fortunate man.
The illness will be cured due to beasts,
They enter the planet through the vacuum.
The illness is again discontinued.
My Satan is conquered for all those watching
So that ill men who see can nevertheless find
The very soul to be complete.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Denials Kept
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts to fulfill.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Destroys not create.
Denials kept,
Chases with debates.
Denials kept,
Confuses those who lose.
Denials kept,
Is the choice of fools.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts...
To fulfill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Kills.
Kills.
Kills.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Cure but There Are Stars
Please sir be assured
there is no cure
no cure for my insanity
no cure for my fear
no cure for my scars
so i sit under the night sky
and look at the stars
it seems even my fright
has gone away
the stars shine bright
such a beautiful sight
lights all around
come to me and surround
surround me with love
bring me to life
help me move on
with your faith and hope
save me please
help me cope
cope from the loss of faith
ther loss of friends
the loss of family and love
stars please
be my guide
and stay by my side
poem by Diana Americano
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I'm not going to worry about the Cure slipping down into the second division; it doesn't bother me because I never expected to be in the first division anyway.
quote by Robert Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diminishing Defenses
Let's remove the platitudes.
And rid the phony subtleties,
To dropp to be who we are...
To let that be seen,
Moving forward to do more progressive things.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
And let's do it to prove,
It done,
To do.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
You offend. I offend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let's remove the platitudes,
I defend. You defend.
Let us diminish the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Let us remove those platitudes
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Let us remove those platitudes.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
Down with the fences.
Diminishing defenses.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Curriculum
Bright sunny skies,
Shine high.
With clouds minimized!
And I know why,
Your eyes...
Are clear,
And particular!
On a flight like a kite.
Excited by height.
And delighted your life,
Has a new insight.
And I,
Enjoy this ride you find...
Particular!
That curriculum chosen,
Is your own.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen,
All alone.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen...
That you've shown.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum...
Nobody but you've got it!
That curriculum chosen,
Is your own.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen,
All alone.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen...
That you've shown.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum...
Nobody but you've got it!
Those bright sunny skies,
Shine high.
With clouds minimized!
And I know why,
Your eyes...
Are clear,
And particular!
Nobody but you've got it!
That curriculum chosen,
Is your own.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen,
All alone.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum chosen...
That you've shown.
Oh, oh.
That curriculum...
Nobody but you've got it!
That curriculum...
Nobody but you've got it!
That curriculum...
Nobody but you've got it!
That curriculum.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If The Truth Be There...Tell It
The strength of America,
Was built on the backbone
Of those of color.
Those who paved the railroads...
Chinese, Mexicans, Indians and Blacks.
And slaved in the fields.
The Irish know that these are facts.
Indentured slaves...
Many of them were.
While the 'others' found ease in comfort!
And doing what they feel.
While they imported relatives...
To begin nepotism deals.
Some with no English spoken at all.
And their ancestors made sure,
They were not the ones to sweat.
While ignorance at a time ran rampant...
To create today's regrets!
And that is the history,
Often not told...
To those who have chosen racism,
As the way to go!
To claim what is and not theirs to share!
If the truth be there...
Tell it!
And not sell deceit,
That defeats...
Lost souls!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conditioned That Money Should Be Prized
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
With the use of color of their skins,
Light in complexion or dark as night...
Their minds with insights may be encased in,
The mentalities fed are to use this as a weapon,
To defend or ignite one's bigoted and racist appetite.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
And those who champion the marketing of images,
Aren't going to consciously reflect true beauty...
As it should be.
Beauty will be selective.
And chosen as a commodity.
To sell to those impressed,
And depress with suppression...
Those weakened through enforcing a belief!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
Of course they are going to feel subservient,
From birth until their lives end!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Those who get and hoard it best,
Will have others believe...
Their minds are at rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
I believe in the Kingdom Come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
But yes I'm still running
You broke the bonds
You loosened the chains
You carried the cross
And my shame
And my shame
You know I believed it
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cuts Inflicted
The only thing that is getting better...
Are those flourished explanations,
By those chosen to minimize...
The affects of truth.
To keep those fed,
In a gleeful spending frenzy!
But an awakening has occurred.
As those observe those in glasshouses.
Inside of them they smack on snacks.
While outside,
Their foundations...
Have widening, threatening cracks.
And they are seen wining and dining...
Sharing pretensions,
Things on the 'other' side...
Can not be as bad as that!
And the glass begins to splinter!
To leave gaping holes...
With glass crashing as it falls into the streets.
Dressed in suits and gowns to clean...
Those appear from their festivities,
With brooms...
For a simple neat,
And sweet appearing sweep!
Hoping their efforts,
And speech when they speak...
Has listeners left believing,
Cuts inflicted upon them...
Are not as deep!
Or painful.
As the blood gushes from wounds condoned,
By those who stand and patriotically bleed!
Some with children...
To provide alone.
Aren't yet too convinced...
That even those wearing diamond encrusted tieras,
Wished they had found their feet on the ground.
Instead of victimizing themselves...
Attempting to climb over,
A razor sharpened fence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cut From the Chase and Get to The Point
By a show of hands...
Who amongst you,
Would be willing to give up your pretensions...
If you could afford an introduction to truth?
I see!
Okay.
Let me put that another way.
I can tell this lesson is going to be painful.
By a show of hands...
Who amongst you can acknowledge,
That deceit,
As it was once received and delivered...
Who prefers more of that,
Although it exposes...
Those who keep that active?
'Mister Pringle,
Can we cut from the chase and get to the point?
All of us sittin' up in here 'is' dysfunctional.
Greed to us is like crack.
If that's all you know...
What picture 'is' you paintin'
For us to carry on our backs?
Just tell us what we have to do...
To pass this class.
Most of us have to get out of here...
To sell some bags of grass and do that fast!
Those 'visions' you have,
Have not been 'prioritized' to satisfy our needs.
Can you cut the chase and pick up the pace, please? '
I see!
Okay.
Let me put that another way.
I can tell this lesson is going to be painful.
By a show of hands...
How many of you now observe a fool?
Hoping to impress with a shallowness.
As a way to keep an attraction...
To an empty nothingness?
I see!
Marshall, you may leave!
Many here wish to keep...
Their ignorance kept more discreet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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