Disturbed By the Process
What a convenience it is,
Not to think!
Or be disturbed by the process of thought!
I use to believe,
A request to be left alone...
Once admitted,
Should be respected.
Or that person left alone,
As requested.
Not thought of as a conquest!
Today?
People have no sense of 'self'.
With a choice to defend their ignorance.
Like a mob...
Choosing to tar and feather someone,
If that person declares a wish
To be from them dismissed!
This creates tensions that become animalistic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Increase Of Its Popularity
The one thing about ignorance,
That is beginning to make sense...
To those advocating their prinicples,
And beliefs with enforced implementation...
Is the acceptance of ignorance everywhere.
Spreading to eliminate the thought of its existence.
Leaving the many who had perceived ignorance to be,
As appalling and offensive to become today outnumbered.
Making the appearance of ignorance the choice preferred.
That satisfies both purpose and taste,
Without need for debate to question.
With few left to argue the increase of its popularity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quickly Assessed To Suspect
If one's intelligence was a defense used against,
The strangle hold of an increasing ignorance...
And events associated to its prominence.
To end with a smothering of common sense.
Then why has it been an exorbitant expense,
To convince...
That the education one has is a vital benefit.
Especially today when many are offended,
By anyone with a thought process...
Confessing an expertise easily to connect dots.
Confusing many to address without that ability.
And once this is admitted with a proof that is served,
That person becomes quickly assessed to suspect...
As a threatening nonconformist to be watched and observed.
'Do you mind passing me more BS, please?
The taste of it is so fresh.
Is it 'never' out of season?
Or does that depend on its presentation...
And the supply and demand for its need? '
I have not a clue.
But it is delicious, isn't it?
'Yes.
Is there more? '
As much of it as you would like.
Light, mild or spicy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Slow Murmur
People were slowly murmuring voice
“He is dead and had had no choice”
He was suffering from illness since long
He will be long remembered as he is no more among
I tried to learn what they were talking about
They were pointing fingers at me and going out
I could sense trouble about my past being discussed
But I had strong will power and was used too
It took me few years back to remember incidence
How was I put to shame by him at once?
How did he drag me in place of isolation?
Tore me apart and put to humiliation
How desperately I had requested him to spare?
How cunningly he had planned to molest me and dared?
I tried all attempts to get free from his hold
The miseries and pain were left behind to be told
I was troubled a lot by his barbarous assault
It was spraying in wound s like salt
Every time I cursed him for his cowardice act
I felt badly as I was made to suffer as a matter of fact
No females should be assaulted in such a manner
It may add woes and worst may be compelled on her
Such things are to be shared only woman
He was left free from such worries as man
I felt to rejoice the day as he was no more
In past I had tried the ways to explore
Every time he was spared by one way or another
I had then decided to forgive him forever
Today again those guilty moments have surfaced
Finally he is done away with and traced
He is no more in world to hunt my feelings
He was the only person to cause me sufferings
I had vowed to take revenge in lifetime
It was discouraged by second thought sometimes
It was hurting me from within like fresh wound
I wanted to leave scene for ever and not be found
I thought of going in person and lay the wreath
We must respect all those persons after their death
Their misdoing may not be worth to mention on the page
But whatever they did in their life is not for us to judge
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Knowledge is essential to conquest; only according to our ignorance are we helpless. Thought creates character. Character can dominate conditions. Will creates circumstances and environment.
quote by Anne Besant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Times Never Forgotten
Sometimes the best remedy,
That comes to assist one to heal quickly...
Is not the familiar 'cry-on-the-shoulder-kind'!
With a soothing of tears and a warm embrace.
Sometimes some cures are better done,
When that person is left alone.
To figure out how to deal,
With agony, pain and stress on their own.
And hopefully a going through the process...
Will increase an appreciation!
And perhaps the acknowledgement,
Of this is shown.
Sometimes this works!
And at other times...
Be on the alert!
Especially when those 'sometimes'
Most of the time...
Are those times never forgotten,
By the ones turned away the first time.
You know...
There are those times that come,
When 'some' people have none to spare!
To express an empathy or caring.
And we all will have those times,
When a comforting should have been extended.
And a selfishness not to listen...or pretend,
Reveals more than what had been intended.
And...
Even though a healing process does occur?
The hearing of it,
Never seems to end.
With reminders left to dig deep under the skin.
'WHY?
Why are you still harboring on that?
How long do you want me to apologize?
For the rest of my life? '
~I hadn't thought of that as an option.
Let me give that some thought!
Thank you for the suggestion.
I appreciate that.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Wanted Person
You are a wanted person and,
You've stolen from many;
You are a wanted person and,
You thought you are rich from your theft.
The law is looking for you,
The people are tracking for you down,
But for how long will you hide from them?
A wanted person is what you are,
So try to sow a better seed than hate;
A wanted person is what you are,
So try to do the right thing than stealing;
One day the law will get to you.
You will be exposed one day,
You will be caught one day,
There and then you will know your mistakes;
A wanted person is what you are.
Like the nakedness of a chicken,
Likewise will your shame be;
You are a wanted person and,
The law is after you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Cousin broke my heart
i thought i looked up 2 you
i thought i called you my cuz
that i'll never forget
how wrong was i
i thought you were great
i thought you were my older cuz
sumone and the only person
i could look up 2
then you go a pull ur shit
i cant get over how wrong i was
you not a person i can look up 2
cuz a person i could look up 2
would talk to me when i call
and no make up excuses 2 not talk 2 me
so all i have 2 say is
icant believe i ever looked up 2 you
poem by Heather Noble
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Lost Child
The person I knew
Is gone today
The person I knew
Has flown away
The person I knew
To my sad dismay
That person I knew
Has gone astray
The Child I knew
Has passed away
How sad I am
Is hard to say
The words too frail
They can't convey
The loss I feel
They can't portray
Each time in thought
I pass this way
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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Interpreted As Conformity
In those slower days,
A dependable pace was kept.
And met on a regular basis,
With certainty.
When one could almost guarantee,
What those events would be tomorrow.
But those yesterdays with their tomorrows gone,
Are never coming back to keep pretentions intact...
For those to flaunt their upturned noses.
No!
Today the change amongst us is more of the mind.
Information collected is at a much faster pace.
Leaving behind those of a limited thought process,
Seeking to maintain control as once digested to accept...
Over that which has already been erased as outdated,
By those choosing truth as a preference to manifest.
Instead of ignorance as a choice to interpret as conformity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the ruins of your game
Im stuck in the ruins of your game.
I remember everthing clear as day.
You told me it would be a fun game.
Fun for you mabey.
It was sheer hell for me.
In the ruins of what you did.
I'm left in an everlasting pain.
It was left within the wake of what you did.
Im left within ruins.
Im in a shell of my self.
Im angry really bloody angry.
It all knaws away at me.
Eating its way through me.
Am I a bad person?
Was it my fault?
Is the unaswered questions.
In the ruins of what happened to me.
In the ruins of what you did.
Its left me me fucked up in the head.
Im a really fucked up person now.
It all in ruins.
Im a mess.
Im a bad person.
You left me in the ruins of your abuse.
Left me to pick up the peices.
You just luaghed at me all the time.
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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For My New Friend
I read a poem the other day,
of how we should look at the inner person.
Not at the way, that person looks or dresses,
nor the texture and colour of their skin,
but the real person that lies within.
I made a new friend last week by doing exactly that.
So many people had told me
that he was arrogant and abusive,
that he expected you
to do everything for him.
The person they were talking about is a paraplegic.
He lives his days in a wheelchair,
has trouble opening doors
and doing the up the laces in his shoes.
So yes, he needs help now and then.
I was helping him navigate
through several sets of doors.
We struck up a conversation,
and as we talked I found
what none of the others had seen.
He wasn’t arrogant and abusive,
but really very polite.
He had lovely sense of humour
and lovely smile.
I could immediately sense
there was a kind heart within.
As we talked I noticed something else too,
this poor lad had a lonely side as well.
By the time we reached the final door,
which I opened, for him,
I felt a little taller.
I had gained a new friend.
We said we would talk again
and left it at that.
Today when I saw him and said “Hello.”
A large smile came across his face,
and it set everything aglow.
1 October 2007
poem by David Harris
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The Process Isn't As Simple
I find it pointless,
To discuss how a process is done...
And takes place,
To anyone who has not expressed...
Just more of an interest.
If anyone has never been on stage to act.
Or has picked up a pen or a pencil,
To write...
Generating that kind of motivation in one's head...
Is to me like asking,
What does it take to lay an egg?
There is 'nothing' here to work with.
Neither is the person asking this queston a hen...
WITH a pencil OR a pen.
Nor has any attempts been made...
To lay that egg!
I am one of those people,
Who has to see some effort being achieved!
Especially if my assistance is requested.
The process isn't as simple,
As that hen may make it look!
'How is the rooster involved in all of this? '
Trust me.
Once you 'really' get a bonafide interest...?
You will begin the process of research,
On your own.
That 'desire' will be there.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Up And Disappeared
There has been a lot of listening missed,
That did not reach either your left...
Or right ear.
And I know there has been many attempts...
To reach you.
But you...
Refused to pay attention.
Since what was said you did not want to hear!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
But the only thing your stubborn held fits,
Has not understood...'and' 'that' you've dismissed.
Any understanding those few were willing to give,
Has up and disappeared with no regret shown for it!
Time is very much a factor in this.
Because it is with time allowed,
Comprehension needs that thought process...
To make 'anything' for one to become clear.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Heard An Angel Say
I thought I saw her face today
in the sparkle of the morning sun
and then I heard the angel say
her work on earth is done
I thought I heard her voice today
then laugh her hearty laugh
and then I hear the angel say
there's peace little one at last
I thought I felt her touch today
in the breeze that rustled by
and then I hear an angel say
the spirit never dies
I thought she had left me
for the stars to far above
and then I hear the angel say
she left you with her love
I thought I would miss her
and never find my way
and then I heard the angel say
she's with you everyday
poem by Lizee Beth
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Your Accomodating Spirit
There is something about being taken for granted,
That never dawns on the minds of those...
Who perceive themselves as accomodating,
The people they use by providing them a convenience...
That one day will benefit the person taken for granted,
With an overwhelming feeling of gratitude...
Of knowing someone only thinks of them,
As that person to go to...
With only the purpose to have them used.
'Why are you so cheerful today? '
~Knowing you only think of me as someone to use.
AND you are here willing to have me permit,
The doing of it, too?
I'm am overjoyed with your accomodating spirit.~
'Finally you are beginning to appreciate what I do.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Is A Choice They Made
Backbiters decided,
They would discredit the deeds done...
By the wrong people coming to their aid.
Those seething with envy and jealousy did this,
Believing they would end between themselves conflicts.
To be left with the more of it to exist.
Since those who backbite,
Only offer confusion and incompetence.
And eventually suffer from their own ignorance.
But then...
This is a choice they made with consciousness.
As exposed by the evidence too late admitted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just wait a little longer
I came so close to breaking down,
so close to losing it all.
I never thought that this I'd say,
But please catch me when I fall.
For so long I've been running away,
afraid to face my fears.
And now you've come and picked me up,
and wiped away my tears.
If only you could see,
just how far I've come.
The person I used to be,
and the person standing here...right now.
So could you wait a little longer,
for the sorry I wish to say.
For only you could ever know,
how much it hurts this way.
I thought I kept it still,
locked up and hidden far.
And yet you come and pry my heart out,
open to you as the sun.
Many nights you've seen me,
at my very worst.
And yet you love me all the same,
Filling my heart till it bursts
If only you could see,
just how far I've come.
The person I used to be,
and the person standing here...right now.
(I meant this as a song, but it can go both ways :)
Fundamental of Liar Chapter LI: Savior
Criminal is a person who commits a crime
Rogue is a person who calmly kills 99 people to save 100 people
Hero is a person who can kill 99 people to save one person
Savior is a person who sacrifice himself to save people
Onlooker is a person who stays and witnesses all
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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When Escalations Of Misdeeds Increase
A process of selective hearing,
Eliminates active listening...
With a comprehension done.
We all have been guilty,
Of hearing what we choose to hear.
Only to misunderstand with attitude to gain.
And when an attitude obtained is gained,
What remains is conflict to offer.
As if a victory will be achieved.
When escalations of misdeeds increase,
There is little evidence that peace will be left...
To be kept respected.
A process of selective hearing,
Eliminates active listening...
With a comprehension done.
When escalations of misdeeds increase,
There is little evidence that peace will be left...
To be kept respected.
That is not the goal,
When an ego has been unleashed...
From its confines of common sense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ignorance
ok
ignorance is bliss
and so
become the happiest
person alive
ok
keep the ignorance
and be happy
ok
take your choice
take happiness
take
the pigsty
where pearls
and gold
do not matter
ok
stay in that room
of ignorance
who knows
if they are coming
and soon
will take
everything away
from you
don't bother
poem by Antonio Liao
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