Ego Trips That Bore
If subjective objectivity
Depended on substance...
And its effective projected quality,
Few who nourish the encouragement of thought,
Would have none to offer that triggers independent stances!
As they await to bait souls with predetermined fates,
Debated!
Since the collective who deem their points of view,
Selected based on merit,
Are they themselves limited and lost
To qualify such understandings!
They meet to empower themselves...
Yet are powerless to control expressed experiences of others!
They would like to find an exclusiveness,
That produces a greatness desired.
But instead discover they argue among themselves...
In an induced seduction,
About direction and content of their values!
In an ever changing process,
That is free of excessiveness...
And ego trips that bore!
They are eventually ignored,
And this they find repulsive!
Since their activities do not attract the desired attention,
Of those who find such minds closed and barren...
Unworthy to contemplate or given time to mention!
'If you are going to award yourselves...
Can it be done with less commotion?
And more devotion to content,
That is devoid of trivial nonsense?
There has to be more meat...
To sink your teeth into?
Giving more time to expand your minds,
Instead of monitoring the actions of a few
You pursue! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Brink Of Extinction
Creating with a solicitation,
A lazy and undisciplined existence.
To identify a segment of one's population,
As dysfunctional.
May for those responsible,
In the implementation of this...
Boost egos.
But cost effective?
No!
Only fools feeding an isolated greed,
Would keep this as their belief.
Only a complete ignorance,
Would perceive this approach...
To be an effective reflection of greatness.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
From the time of their birth...
Would find this uplifting to their self worth.
And not an encouragement nourishing,
One to the brink of extinction.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
Of those threatening their insecurities...
Eventually will find this point of view of superiority,
A mentally degrading aspect...
Of their own growth process and not an asset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Substitute of Meat
What process is this,
If it is not a learning one?
What process is this,
If comprehension isn't done?
Wasted sagas are meaningless,
And shallow.
Do nothing there to uplift.
Although,
A purpose to keep mentalities narrow...
And quite hollow does succeed.
What process is this,
If it is not a learning one?
What process is this,
If comprehension isn't done?
And what purpose is served,
By keeping minds fed dessert...
In substitute of meat.
We already witness the disadvantages,
Of too much sugar and spice.
Leaving sweetened appetites in our streets,
Without substance to nourish!
With all taxes increased.
'Meat?
I thought you were vegetarian? '
Meat for the mind,
Fool!
'I'll have you know,
I am a qualified imbecile...
Thank you!
Any references declaring me to be a fool,
I find appalling and offensive.'
There is 'something' about that to be admired.
Perhaps that's why it captivates.
And nothing about your situation advances.
It's soooo...
Impressively expressive.
And excuses an accepted abuse!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Devotion
If I am right
If I can be
Constant and faithful
Youll find me
In my devotion
In my devotion
What if you find a fault
Between my purpose and my deeds
And deem me beyond salvation
Judge me to be unworthy
Of your devotion
Of your devotion
If this be obsession deliver me
A passing infatuation deliver me
A feeling lacking in purity deliver me
A test of fidelity deliver me
Deliver me
Deliver me
What if I should find
Youre no good for me
What if I cant be strong enough
What if I cant break free
Of my devotion
Of my devotion
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Minds of Those Like These
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And on borrowed time,
They proceed to show themselves...
Out of their minds with a choice to grieve.
Incredible.
Incredible...
Wh at people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
Self seekers enforcing to impose their will,
For the purpose to fulfill...
The prophesy of their demise.
So unwise are they who do not pay attention.
So unwise are they who do not listen!
As they forge ahead,
In disbelief of what has been 'envisioned'.
Or comprehend words to them said.
As they forge ahead,
Strickened by positions...
That restrict their minds to limited conditions.
Incredible.
Incredible...What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And no tomorrows come to those,
Making attempts to dethrone and dispose...
Of truth and the existence of it,
Because they refuse to 'see'.
Instead of reacting emotionally,
To rapid revelations.
Programmed and delivered by the 'Deities'.
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
It is hard to believe,
How people live and they deceive!
It is hard to believe people who seek no remedy.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Won't Find Me There
I'd like to know what makes you stay
While your eyes still search for escape
You think that I don't feel the cold, baby
But I wait, while confessions unfold
You'll never make a living from reading minds
Or from getting your direction from exit signs
Look into your heart and you won't find me there
You won't find me where you hide, baby
And that makes us a matter of time
Like trees exposed by fall, baby
Time reveals it all
You'll never make a living from reading minds
Or from getting your direction from exit signs
Look into your heart and you won't find me there
Oooooooh...
Tell me you want to do everything
But you're stuck up to your knees
And I'm less likely pushed forward
By ambition than a breeze
But there's a flame that must be fanned, baby
And it appears as a beckoning hand
Don't think 'cause you're not talking, you're being kind
You've been getting your direction from exit signs
Look into your heart and you won't find me there
You won't find me
Oooh, there
You won't find, you won't find
You won't find me there, oooh
You won't find, you won't find
You won't find me there
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drifting To Shift Away
We seem to have been always great.
With the feeding of this,
Throughout generations.
And accepting nothing less,
Served to us on an overflowing plate.
Room that left opportunities,
To become better...
Did not exist.
Many had no time for this to fit.
Since what we were in our minds,
Was a perfection to be envied.
And a way of life,
That was hard to resist!
With an easiness to define.
And...
Defend with quickness.
We seem to have been always great.
With no tolerance for others...
That did not equal,
Or emulate the image.
With an appeasing done,
To uphold those preferenced druthers...
The chosen and elite believed one needed to meet.
Or challenge,
To be selected for defeat!
And still,
To this very day...
We express, we do, our dissatisfactions!
Becoming dismayed...
Towards those who are different in custom.
And mannerisms diversed in ethnic actions displayed!
To perceive a greatness understood...
Should and could become strengthened from within.
But,
Then again...
To ignore and rid of constant discipline...
With no attention given to it or its importance,
Will eventually find concrete foundations...
Crumbling into quarreling divisions.
With a hated directed and mentioned,
On everyone's lips.
Shared until it bores from familiarity.
Leaving 'this' ideal of a greatness to sit.
Until the memory of it drifting to shift away,
From a purpose...
Any purpose.
Fades,
As if...
Every thought of greatness was no more than a myth!
Like a victim of a tragic coincidence observed..
But left unassisted with an interest vanishing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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2009
Two thousand and nine?
Hmmm.
2009?
People will find themselves delusion free.
And committed to priorities...
Greed and fantasies did not allow them to be.
An awakening of sorts,
Will have them questioning their religious beliefs.
Since those philosophies held onto...
Created their conflicts and their grief!
Two thousand and nine?
Hmmm.
2009?
Remember those times and days of respect?
Expect more of that sincerely reflected.
Accept kindness expressed,
From those you did not expect.
And reject temptation to extend bitterness.
There will be many who will wish to increase peace.
To see the nonsense kept in declaring who is inferior...
As superiority over others,
Will from their minds decrease.
Two thousand and nine?
Hmmm.
2009?
Protective thoughts to defend,
Of what is not yours but mine will come to an end.
Since an introduction of a higher consciousness will take affect.
To inspire goodwill for all humanity!
And all who invested in 'things' they lost...
Will discover they have become happier.
To achieve this without paying the cost!
With wishes of simplicity...
To become the focused objectivity!
Two thousand and nine?
Hmmm.
2009?
A new beginning comes.
With a clarity of mind that defines reality!
And leaving behind divisions and nonsense.
Of all kinds.
That's what folks will find,
In 2-0-0-9.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drastic Measures
Drastic measures taken,
Most of the time...
Produces the desired result.
If I knew I had to instill discipline,
Within the minds of 'my' children.
And all else I have tried has failed.
Contemplating in hesitation,
I simply could not do.
An immediate solution is needed.
And with a quickness this should be heeded.
Delay advocates an acceptance further disrespected.
This suggests it is okay,
To continue to ignore with increased child's play.
IF I knew I had to instill discipline,
Within the minds of 'my' children.
I would have them quarantined,
Without their 'toys'.
To show them and myself,
Just how serious their diseased behavior...
Infects.
And what this means.
And...
They would not be released,
Until the demons from them cease.
With a passing of my 'Show Me Your Gratefulness Test'...
AFTER an obstacle course,
The Marine Corp developed for children who are pests...
Has silent their mouths.
And they have begun to digest and comprehended,
Whose rules under my roof...
Will be given the utmost attention.
This,
If I should mention...
Would save tax payers millions paid,
To rehabilitate any child of mine requiring discipline.
Drastic measures taken,
Most of the time...
Produces the desired result.
And...
Establishes a peace of mind!
However,
In these times we live where decadence thrives...
As a marketing device to divide and entice,
Drastic measures confines those to 'rights'.
With amendments and laws outdated,
And much flawed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sewn Into a Pattern
Caught up into limitations.
So many whine...
And find time to entertain it!
Living within closed in narrow minds,
And crying the blues like losers do!
Without one thought to taking a step,
In another direction.
Just for the hell or heaven of it.
Even a pause at an intersection of indecision...
Is acceptable and should be welcomed.
It is difficult to critique something unfamiliar!
Although it is done.
Leaving the ones who do it,
Expressing such vocal ignorance.
And helping to identify themselves...
As social misfits!
Out publicly dispensing their dysfunctions!
At least you will feel removed from being locked in!
Like them.
Sewn into a pattern with no wish to rip free!
And if you choose a direction you find not liked...
Find something about it you do!
Focus upon it and admire the difference.
Think of it as being stitched onto a patched quilt!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Raised to Only Praise Delusions
They come quick to evaluate the words...
And not the content of the message.
They come to seek and critique,
Definitions and language use.
As if an acceptance of concepts,
Will be a test to pass the task that is earned.
They want to qualify the composition...
And the one who prepared the text.
But what is being delivered,
Does not with them connect.
Their minds have been set to protest.
They would like to find the composer negligent.
Incompetent at best!
With an ego self enthralled.
And what should in their minds connect...
Is rejected to leave them stalled.
They were raised to only praise delusions.
And that,
Afterall...
Has become their reason and purpose.
They have become limited and programmed.
With no desire to stand and walk tall.
But to remain on their knees...
As they have been taught to crawl!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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It's Like A Truth Versus Nonsense
A content achieved,
Can not compete...
With envy and jealousy.
That conquest has been in motion,
For quite some time now.
It's like a...
Truth versus nonsense kind of thing.
And when minds are focused,
Upon mediocrity to sell...
It will be marketed and done well,
To minimize the effectiveness...
Of content and its influence.
It's like a...
Truth versus nonsense kind of thing.
Eliminating an obvious contrast not admitted.
With consequences to ultimately face to pay.
And sacrificing what is best to appease.
To forget the original concept,
Is an acceptance considered as a normal process.
It's like a...
Truth versus nonsense kind of thing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deeds I Seed and Sow
We all have made our decisions.
And began taking paces,
Towards our fates.
On selected paths.
With eyes we hoped were clear.
To afford our desires,
An unregrettable pass.
Undeterred and focused.
Many wished it easy for themselves.
And followed upon a certain,
Obstacle free smooth surface.
Less bumpy of sweat and grind.
To prove those who sought to be challenged...
Would find they've been left behind.
And the ones overwhelmed,
With a process thought ridiculous...
Chose to live lives of deception and tricks.
Hoping to lick,
A system that would award them with triumph!
Quick.
To impress with appearances dressed.
And finding an acceptance,
From those addressing polished images seen.
'Be patient with yourself.
Do not look down in depression.
Or to the side for anyone else.
If your abilities merit attention...
There will be little,
From your lips you will have to mention.
Your deeds will speak,
For themselves.
Within your mind keep this repeated,
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
Within your mind keep this repeated.
Do not allow defeat be seated!
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
We all have made our decisions.
And began taking paces,
Towards our fates.
On selected paths.
With eyes we hoped were clear.
To afford our desires,
An unregrettable pass.
Undeterred and focused.
Within your mind keep this repeated.
Do not allow defeat be seated!
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Style of Delivery
Attacking one's style of delivery,
And refusing to acknowledge the substance implied...
For purposes to keep mentalities sugarized.
Allows an atmosphere to remain cut pasted and safe.
To continue a pledge of devotion,
Increasingly devoid of progress.
And of faith!
While keeping the people fast asleep.
With wishes not to be disturbed...
By a blatant theft of their consciousness,
From them pilfered by deception reeked!
To leave them undeterred.
And...
With minds voluntarily sold that truth produces,
An evilness identified that should not be induced.
But the goal that should be idolized,
Is the gold that should stay fixed...
In their clouded and dulled eyes.
And from them a significance,
Of life lived must be erased.
To adjust as their standards,
And way of life slowly is replaced.
With a drugging of acceptance,
Done!
In their collective distraught faces.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Does Them In
So sad are they with minds limited.
They had paid to obtain an intelligence...
But leave schools degreed,
Without one hint...
Of how to apply common sense.
And they seek employment...
With resumés that say they qualify!
But not a thought connects,
That proves a thinking process.
Although they are selected.
Because of their hair...
And the color of their eyes.
And salaried they are...
To expose their incompetence...
That eventually represents,
A complete ineptness.
But that does not prevent,
A promotion based only...
On their attractiveness!
And they are placed in positions,
To discourage those who are far more brilliant!
Why?
To protect a host of insecurities.
As they try to thrive on greed...
As a bleeding economy dies.
Without an implementation,
Of an embracing did...
With a true diversification done!
And this does them in,
In the end!
Human resources neglected,
Does not lead to one's success.
Regret is what one frets.
Regret is what is left and met.
Regret is what reflects the mess.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lesson #1
Lesson #1...
You can not convince those,
Who have made up their minds...
That an alternative approach,
Will provide a better benefit.
They will not hear it!
Since their minds have been blocked,
And limited.
Leave them alone,
To experience their own ignorance.
And by doing this...
You have removed yourself,
From feelings of guilt and remorse.
Left behind for someone else,
To eventually admit.
You must allow them to confront their egos...
On their own terms.
If you don't...
No one grows to learn!
And an ego on a rampage,
Isn't worth sacrificing...
An earned peace of mind!
Leave that nonsense,
To find its own way.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Person's Worth Is Invaluable
A person's worth,
Isn't in their ability...
To obtain worldly possessions.
Or in the quality of them.
Can that person nourish others,
With encouragement?
Can that person be a true friend...
When the time for being one,
Shows what kind of skin...
That person 'is'
And exposes from within.
Being able to spend cash,
And make a quick dash on trips...
Or do a name dropping of notables,
Doesn't mean a thing...
If a person is negligent,
To extend heartfelt feelings...
Not too many can express or mention.
A person's worth is invaluable,
When a genuineness appears...
To surface time and again.
And that is proven to be dependable,
Without a doubt or a need to question.
Can that person nourish others,
With encouragement that does not end?
A person's worth will unearth,
Who and what comes first...
Regardless of those impressions made,
Someday that will fade...
Long after established ties with others,
Have remained to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Evidence At All
You can find reasons,
To qualify or disqualify my abilities.
With the best of your changing ideals,
To appeal to a selected demographic.
However,
It is your incompetence...
I would still have to face.
And then waste 'my' time...
Correcting the mistakes,
You believe you are entitled to take credit.
And...
You have all of my background information,
And I have no evidence at all...
If you are who you say you are.
Or have a right to question my credentials.
So don't mention to me about 'your' freedom,
Of getting MY information at my expense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Over Medicating With A Self Importance
We can't imitate the living of life.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Nor can we insist what is not visible exists.
But so much of life lived is not visible...
To expose to anyone to prove it being done.
Most of life lived when given,
Is based on sheer faith and confidence.
Patience and the giving of sacrificial time.
With the knowing in one's mind.
Something divine is keeping track of the mess,
Human beings have made in attempts to perfect nonsense.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Once one has been blessed with it.
There is something genuine and real,
About the feelings one has.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To leave them to live their own lives.
And allow others to learn and grow,
For the sharing of those experiences.
But many don't get this!
Without that interdependence.
We limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We would rather destroy other lives,
With the enforcement of values and standards...
We perceive with beliefs are best for others,
When in fact.
We are hard pressed to show any evidence,
To convince within our own minds.
Of that working for ourselves.
But an over medicating with a self importance?
We can do with the right prescription.
Not to take but to test.
With the observing of the affects on others.
To arrive at a feeling of perfection.
And that,
As of yet.
Can not be found.
However.
We can always say,
What we believe has been achieved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Caged Prisoners
They take a vote to decide,
Whether or not they should move forward?
And another to decide if they should abandon,
Those limitations of thought and the process of it!
This may seem ludicrous...
But people like this actually exist!
They think of themselves as being progressive...
With an exactness,
Even caged prisoners would petition against.
And despise they do,
Those who protest their degraded quality of life.
They prefer that such issues be kept quiet...
And not attract attention.
Lessons received from their ancestors.
With content and comprehension...
Has been released and is nonexistent!
And yet...
At odds with the delivery, purpose and perception.
When in celebration of historic events...
Although clearly maintaining the routine of values meant!
Nothing more!
Just the pretense of it!
Even though an hypocrisy kept,
May be in conflict with the hip hoppers...
Unwrapping disrespect gone unaddressed.
With presentations that expose cracks on naked butts!
As minds fly high around warning signs posted on trees,
Above the pictures of missing neighborhood children!
But who really cares...
When there are still those who are trying to 'project' traditions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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