Elimination Of Hearsay
Finger poppers, butt shakers...
And those fast to pat their feet,
Have embraced a new beat...
That has come to re-define a rhythm they keep,
To face.
Along with their family, friends and neighbors.
Without mistaking,
What comes for them to be replaced.
And many have discovered,
A keeping in step with reality...
Is more effectively done,
When their minds are grounded...
To that which is around them.
Allowing the elimination of hearsay,
And unfounded opinions given...
To experience a more personalized touch,
Immediately felt to be unquestioned.
These days are as serious as any plague,
With a determination to address clarity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Somehow I Am Immediately Alerted
If I can express,
From my own point of view...
A committment to honesty,
As 'my' experience with it
Allows me to be.
With a self assessment...
That encourages I should be limitation free.
I will not be seeking opinions,
As to how my own impressions...
Affect me emotionally,
Mentally or physically.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Or why my feelings are felt,
The way I feel them.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Nor am I going to address that in debate.
To await who wins!
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
If I say I feel a certain way about my life...
I do not seek a validation.
Nor will I take random surveys.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted.
Any emotions I can not define...
That are mine,
Has very little to do with outside observations.
No needs do I have to schedule visits,
With qualifying psychiatrists.
Or analytical dissections of dysfunctions,
Performed by anyone ordained...
To deliver sermons from a pulpit.
And...
Who believes themselves to be more in touch,
With 'my' reality.
Since all my realities have my name on them!
My creditors will vouch for that!
And would be happy I've made any attempts,
To contact them at all!
So if there is anyone who is in doubt,
About what comes out of my mouth.
Know this...
Any questions I may have,
About my life and directions I take...
To broaden my own awareness,
Will 'first' be heard by God.
And what is decided from 'our' conferences...
More than likely!
And will produce all the comprehension I need.
Unless God is not available.
And it is rare I've had to reschedule,
Priorities to accomodate my visits with Him...
Her or IT.
So far,
I've been extremely fortunate...
To find I am expected.
Somehow,
I am immediately alerted about this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speedway
And when you slam
Down the hammer
Can you see it in your heart ?
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded
So when you slam
Down the hammer
Can you see it in your heart ?
Can you delve so low ?
And when youre standing
On my fingers
Can you see it in your heart ? ... ah ...
And when you try
To break my spirit
It wont work
Because theres nothing left to break
Anymore
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded
You wont sleep
Until the earth that wants me
Finally has me
Oh youve done it now
You wont rest
Until the hearse that becomes me
Finally takes me
Oh youve done it now
And you wont smile
Until my loving mouth
Is shut good and proper
Forever
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded
And all those lies
Written lies, twisted lies
Well, they werent lies
They werent lies
They werent lies
I never said
I never said
I could have mentioned your name
I could have dragged you in
Guilt by implication
By association
Ive always been true to you
In my own strange way
Ive always been true to you
In my own sick way
Ill always stay true to you
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unfounded By Hearsay
I spent five months,
Recuperating in a hospital...
Once.
And feeling depths of isolation,
With drifting expectations.
I have learned much about others,
And their assumptions...
Unfounded by hearsay.
And those weakened by their own beliefs.
Blessed I am to have had experiences,
Many with closed mindsets...
Have yet in their limited realities,
Been exposed to have bestowed.
And I have more of an understanding,
Of those who have managed to live alone...
With a pulling up of their bootstraps,
And to ignore those trapped...
With nothing else to offer but passed judgements,
Within walls of their false comfort zones.
And believing them to remain like that forever.
I have learned much about others,
And their assumptions...
Unfounded by hearsay.
And those weakened by their own beliefs.
If someone lies long enough to themselves,
And feed their lies to others to believe...
Reality,
When it finally arrives...
Is worse than facing a created enemy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keeping email alive in touch
Keeping email alive in touch
A day gone by without your mail
I seem to be a year for me
Today I read your mail
Is full with gladness and happiness
Family and friends
Getting in touch
From around the world
I dream of the day, when we meet
Or again
In real from around the world
I will tell you, how much I love you
My family and your Friendship
When we do we spend all day long
Talking of this
Miracle email alive
Only we can make this happen
Because we been waiting for this moment
For a long time
I been waiting to meet you all
Or again
I miss you all
And to be my true friends
That you donâ? ? t know yet
When we meet each other
You agree my family and friends
When I read your mail
From the most beautiful family and friends
I have with you all
It is so pleasant to understand
I want you to know
You are the most loving
Family and friends
I want to feel your peasant
Completely our friendship
I truly love to have family and friends
Like you all
To all my beloved family and friends
Are important to me
Life in touch will never stop
Whatever weather
Keeping email alive in touch
The more successful is filled with common sense
poem by See Fee Lee
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This Stuff Ain't Fresh
This stuff ain't fresh.
Just restated.
Updated to give it flair.
The same minds will ignore it.
And the proof will be there.
The rhythm changes.
With the same words repeated.
The beat is felt.
With those patting their feet.
A monotony delivers,
An expectation.
Yet no one will listen...
With dulled sensations.
This stuff ain't fresh.
Just restated.
Updated to give it flair.
The same minds will ignore it.
And the proof will be there.
Unless I write something,
About a 'monkey's butt'.
Only then,
Will all eyes stare!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Slow To Think
Step aside like the others,
After waking from a slumber.
Shake away your numbness from sleep.
Step aside like the others,
After waking from a slumber.
No need to jump ahead in front with a leap.
You need assistance to keep up with the rhythm.
And...
Your pace is just too slow to think you'll fit in.
The speed has sped to quicken.
And explanations are out of date,
For those trying to catch up much too late.
Where have you been?
To think that you can catch up running.
Where have you been?
To think that others for you wait.
Where have you been?
Your space has been replaced.
And where have you been?
To think that people owe you patience,
With only you to think on their minds.
Not today at this hour of time.
Where have you been?
Your space has been replaced.
And where have you been?
To think that people keep patience,
With only you to think on their minds.
Not today at this hour of time.
Step aside like the others,
After waking from a slumber.
Shake away your numbness from sleep.
Where have you been?
To think that you can catch up running.
Where have you been?
To think that others for you wait.
Where have you been?
Your space has been replaced.
And where have you been?
To think that people owe you patience,
With only you to think on their minds.
Not today at this hour of time.
Step aside,
Like the others after slumber.
Step aside,
Like the others from a sleep.
Step aside,
Like the others after slumber.
Step aside,
Like the others from a sleep.
Step aside.
You're too slow to think.
Step aside.
You're too slow to think.
Step aside.
Step aside...
Like the others after slumber.
Step aside,
Like the others from a sleep,
You're too slow to think.
You're too slow to think.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soldier's Reality
The drums of war beat in the distance,
A constant beat of gun shots.
The men and boys fighting.
Waiting for the war to end, to go back home.
They sit in the cover of the long grass,
Guns loaded, hearts pounding.
They wait for a signal, a sign,
To rise, run, and fire.
Till then they sit, watching, bullets passing by.
They watch people falling, their lives leaving.
Nothing matters to them except that they live,
That they get to see their family again.
Smoke hangs in the air,
A thick mist that reminds them that they're at war,
Keeping them in reality, keeping their eyes open.
The constant rhythm of guns against heart beats,
Both pounding, both screaming.
The black sky closing in on them,
Keeping them in the small battle that they can not escape,
They move back from the front line,
Move away from the fire, the death.
Some walk, some run, some cry, some pray,
But they all move on.
They all go back to camp, to wait for more death and pain.
For tomorrow.
The talking goes late into the night.
Men and women desperate for happiness,
They sit around guns in hand,
Ready for anything.
The shooting never stops, never leaves their minds,
Even in the depths of this black night,
Nothing ends except the next person's life,
Nothing is right, nothing is normal, nothing feels real,
But in truth and in the midst of everything so surreal,
This is the soldiers reality.
by: bethany M.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BS Projectors
Oh they will and they know they can BS.
Those BS projectors.
Killers of relationships!
Their own,
And all of those of family members.
Friends and friends of friends.
Co-workers and 'their' associations.
When they begin projecting there is no end.
They never tell the truth about dilemmas.
They hope innuendo toasted with hearsay,
Will do!
Those BS projectors project,
With distortions like none ever knew.
With an image they select that projects,
What they want others to view!
BS projectors do a smokescreen...
On minds.
Like hoodwinkers who get their due too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Summer Comes to Visit
There is no mistaking it,
When a heat stirs in the mix.
It is Summertime that comes.
And passions bloom,
To become part of it.
Who goes through a Summer,
Without feeling a touch of joy?
Who does not witness a sense of freedom...
With an adventure meant,
To be explored and not annoy!
There is no mistaking it,
This passion felt and has come to sit...
In the heated mix of Summer.
Who can not escape,
To excuse themselves from reason...
Not to have fun and participate.
When Summer is done and over,
Our memories of it...
Seem to linger,
And not drift away as quick.
When Summer comes to visit,
We wish these days,
Stay.
When Summer comes to visit,
We wish these days,
Stay.
When Summer comes to visit,
We wish these days,
Would stay...
Forever.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unconsciousness Is Needed to Sanitize the Blight
Unconsciousness is needed,
To sanitize the blight!
Closed minds are keeping...
Shut tight!
And uptight!
Folks have given up on praying.
Dazed in disbeliefs.
And covering dread,
Under silk and satin sheets!
Licking crumbs off tables...
Wishing sauteéd meat to eat!
As they meet and greet defeated,
People!
Sleeping on crowded heatless streets!
Goodbye to delusions
Secluded in the making!
Their cries have manifested truth!
Hello to the warnings,
No one thought would trespass.
Reality has come to many face to face.
Forgotten are those preferences,
That now have been replaced!
Unconsciousness is needed,
To sanitize the blight!
Closed minds are keeping...
Shut tight!
And uptight...
With the facts that frighten!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Exchange Of Values Have Come To Upset
Obtaining gold and diamonds,
Is still prioritized...
In those minds that can not accept,
An exchange of values have come to upset...
The status quo with depth and purpose.
Just to have 'things' to present an image,
Seems to be on the wane for those drained...
And doing the best they can,
To recover from the quick presence of reality.
Many had never met reality so personalized before.
And the experience has been breathtaking.
Even though...
Obtaining gold and diamonds,
Is still prioritized...
In those minds that can not accept,
An exchange of values have come to upset...
The status quo with depth and purpose,
There still remain those...
Clinging onto their delusions,
Since this is the only reality they know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone Are Those Days of False Portrayals
Some...
Even today,
Remain on the fence.
Needing to be convinced...
Change has come.
They are the ones,
Chained and bound to yesterday.
Looking to find lost footsteps...
That have long since faded away.
Remarkably they sit,
Insisting to do this in stubbornness.
With vivid memories of a clinging past,
That sweeps away like dust from them...
And has drifted in the air ever so fast.
Like precious sand trapped in an hour glass...
Those days spent in minds repeating events,
Again and again...
Is a useless task.
With superstitions and traditions replaced...
Many can not face,
A forever wished...
Does not welcome a higher consciousness.
And this 'evolution' will continue to persist.
With or without invitation.
Or a decision to make...
One chooses to believe they can hesitate.
Does an earthquake warn before it shakes?
Nor does God awaits...
For those who say the 'believe' in Him!
But afraid to step out into the world with faith.
Gone are those days of false portrayals.
Truth and reality is amongst us, people.
And so clear it is...
Their 'visits' have arrived without disguise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inventive Thinking And Creative Ways
How can something so vital,
And necessary to the growth...
Of the minds to advance the education,
Needed for today's children to compete...
Be not a focus of those revealed,
To be graduating with degrees.
With a stimulation done to their imaginations.
But...
A stimulation needed,
Is said to be essential...
To their creative thinking process?
A cheating on tests,
Has yet to prove beneficial.
And today...
People find it difficult to address,
That those with performing arts as their background...
Are found flipping burgers,
Or waiting on tables.
When those discovered to be incompetent,
Irresponsible and lack accountablility...
Can not read nor write.
Or recite what has been written.
And yet...
Are hired to perform tasks for corporations,
That now confess...
They seek people who can read, write...
Do the math, entertain, produce AND direct.
But left to find this pool of talent,
Overseas.
What is missing in the minds of those,
Selected to have the qualities...
That determines they are qualified to lead?
Impressive looks?
Or is it image?
And everything created that has succeeded,
Has come from the minds of those...
Innovative enough,
To make lives more lazier today...
By their inventive thinking and creative ways.
And it is difficult to compete,
With those consistently keeping...
Their minds fixed upon staying in rhythm,
And in tune with the beat of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The rhythm of the beat
As the beats go on
I'll keep movin on
The music moves
Through my vains
I move to every beat
Watching my feet
Dance to the rhythm
To the music i hear
I close my eyes
And let my body move
Move to the beat
Thinkin of my feet
Moving to the vibes
That the music provides
The music gets loud
I dance more profounder
To the rhythm of the beat
I let my feet
Do all the dancing
To the music inside
As it flows through my vains
I let my body go insane
To the rhythm of this beat
poem by Karl Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Light Is Shown
It is in the atmosphere...
Coming fast to awaken and clear.
There is a dose of truth that blows upon us!
It doesn't matter who tells it now.
It is there for all to see.
All lies once told by those who controlled...
Descends as 'one' reality!
No one will escape this fate that breaks,
And shatters what was believed to be!
Deceptions crumble into dust and is replaced,
In the face of unquestioned and uncertain force
Churning with speed and pace
Dropping into proper place...
Upon those in disbelief scurrying in disgrace.
Like a rat caught unexpectedly,
When 'light' is shown and exposes it nibbling,
On something preferred...
With habitual taste!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You May Not Be Able to Feel My Pinch
My reality lived,
Is not yours to claim.
My insights are not like another.
Neither are yours.
But we both can agree...
However we are looking at reality,
There is little room to fantasize
The sting of its clarity.
You may not be able to feel my pinch,
As it is self inflicted.
But I am sure...
You have experienced a kick in the butt!
And that comes to us without description.
Or an invitation you solicit to kiss...
When the kicking of it has been missed!
Either way,
I recommend as a hint...
Do not make neither of those actions,
An accepted routine.
You will just get stuck going nowhere...
Seeking an increase of volunteers.
And many will have their boots tied and ready.
Tempers are on the edge!
So I would step lightly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Campaign Trail
Aged or youth, you make the call, one will rise the other will fall,
Wisdom is grounded in age, as youth wants to turn a new page.
Both desire to take the lead, to address and handle every need,
Going on surely not to lose, but to be the one that men choose.
One, with his charismatic zeal, to the youth he has much appeal,
Speaking of much need change, while others he tries to engage.
Trying to create a broader base, to eloquently lay down his case,
That experience has little to do, in being a leader for me and you.
His opponent on the other hand; experience is his stage to stand,
Speaking of all he has done, and all he will do, once he has won.
With experience makes the claim, he’s more than just a new name,
His experience charts his course, unlike who may be a dark horse.
Each one, from the campaign trail, watches the other rant and rail,
As they do all that they can, in changing minds of opposing men.
While scrambling to win the race, missing is the element of grace,
Grace that sustains the nation, allowing them both in this situation.
Campaigning on strengths they hold, the issue is not young or old,
Nor is the issue wisdom, my friend, if it is only the wisdom of men.
And neither campaign can afford, to ignore the issues of The Lord,
They can run with a confident nod, but, will not get far without God.
The outcome will be God’s selection, for the winner of this election,
Affecting not just two men, but all, with the changes big, not small,
No matter what the polls do say, changes ahead will be God’s way,
Using the final outcome friend, for blessing or judgment in the end.
(Copyright ©08/2008)
This ones for my family
This ones for my family
People whom will never comprehend how much they mean to me
Without these shooting stars in my life
I have no ability
No clarity
No journey
No happiness or glory
These wishes that have come true
Beautiful and pure
So full of angel innocence and grace
Each and every one could never be replaced
I love them all so much they define where in this world I have a place
I want them all to know
How much I adore each passing second they grow
My love for them will never fade or go
Like sunsets every time they amaze me in there natural beautiful glow
Colour and radiance that is forever shown
You are my family and I miss you all so much
You are my family and forever I look forward for your touch
You are my family and share my make up
You are my family and I swear we will never break up
But stay strong and close
Drinking from the same cups
You are my family and for each and every one
I will never give up
In my dreams to help us rise up
For you are my family
You and you alone embody everything in my life’s eternity.
The tears that dropp from my cheek as I write
Come so naturally like stars in the night
For any time I sit and think about you all
My eyes well up and let them fall
Water from a well of emotion
Drawn to reflect my complete and utter devotion
To this love I have inside that is a natural potion
Taken from the same ocean
You are my family and I am surrendered to your hypnotism and wisdom
Your perfection in creation
The very reason my life has passion.
I love you all so much My Mother, Sisters and Brother
poem by One Tap Tap
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Define insanity, define me
'A spectrum of behaviours characterised by
certain abnormal mental or behavioural patterns
that may manifest as violation of societal norms
including becoming a danger to themselves and others or
nowadays denoting mental instability'
Hey! wiki define abnormal, because I don't understand
Tell me who decides societal norms, cause I didn't contribute to them
Let me be dangerous, let me be myself
The stability of whom should I look at?
Define love, define pain, define sufferance
define mercy, define justice, define tolerance
define passion, define sex, define complexity
define insanity, please define me
Take me out of this dream, I can't catch the reality
lead me through this wet fog, guide me home
all my senses are enhanced when
I'm abandoned to your memory
Borderline attitude of being nervous, occasionally anguished
a stormy spirit supposedly calm, a balance quite disturbed
people are arrogant with strange guys
people are scared about non-linear minds
are you among them?
Define love, define pain, define sufferance
define mercy, define justice, define tolerance
define passion, define sex, define complexity
define insanity, please define me
poem by Ilaria Boffa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Preferred Distractions
If you have recently discovered,
You have become one of many people...
Who have awakened to ask,
'What is going on? '
And you are dismayed and distraught by it?
Why concern yourself with the facts of life now?
Crawl back into your shell.
Denial hasn't kept you from redecorating.
And those in denial always find a way,
To address their beliefs to keep themselves...
In preferred distractions to attract whatever it is,
They stubbornly keep intact as a reality kept protected.
And who has the right to say,
A reality that affects the lives of everyone...
Is a reality everyone 'should' accept and MUST face?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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