Fantasy Fits
Encircled riches...
Possessed in protective clutches.
Prizes awarded to raise influence,
And materialize a gain.
Without common sense attached...
Since this is not a matching game.
A perception of greed,
Feeds this haunting curse increasing.
Freedoms decrease...
From this abusing crush!
They can not see themselves,
Licking fingers...
With thick drippings of incompetnce.
Backed up against walls,
Fenced and closing in!
Stalled...
By leeching façades.
Odd they are,
To self inflict wounds and scars unbothered.
Choosing to ignore the power of God...
In rituals sobbed to keep misspent resources.
Selecting rejections and who remains endorsed!
Messages Mother Nature sends relentlessly,
Leaves not a dent...
On these minds in scenes routinely gluttony bent!
Exploiting shores that are way off course.
And kept distracted,
Are those entrenched in entertainment whims.
Fretting to maintain good credit standings sustained,
With stains of a stenching detriment!
Drained to locate borrowers who will lend.
While foreclosures come to hint...
A dwindling comes to crooked pockets to leave just lint!
'Spending limits come to those plugged into fantasy fits.'
Resistance drifts,
On playgrounds erected on soundless gambling risks.
Coming to drown those in profound debt!
Shifting from those with...
To those with nothing left to lose,
Or could care less about any of this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Cries That Led Them Into Protective Battle
A mass induced prepared to crush.
An explosive promise to bum rush,
And hush.
Delays what was portrayed...
As aggressive bleeding to inflict,
With a quickness that would not dismay
A cause for rebels to cheer.
But a leaking of greatness,
Unrelentlessly squeezes.
Increasing debates,
To end destruction of applied hate.
Discriminating voices...
Find their choices,
Diminishing to choose between abusing tactics.
And cryptic delusions of values upheld.
The cost of this,
Has eroded myths!
Foundations once solid and sitting bold...
Now on the threshold of being sold,
To those on foreign lands controlling resources.
Maintaining the gold and observing the unfolding.
As quick as a light switch,
Constantly on...
Now off to find many blind!
And those preparing the script for conflict,
Could care less.
They are not obsessed with biases.
Or racist deeds they manifest!
Pockets they fill with greed to gain.
One aim only is their game...
To leave the masses in pain!
No shame seeps from these evil demons.
Too true they know...
Those who have not,
Will fight themselves over the remains!
Even if realities kept,
And slowly peeled from foreclosed doorsteps...
Becomes nonexistent.
And with cries that led them into protective battle,
Sweeps them into a chaotic madness!
To struggle over dust,
On turf that has rusted!
And no one can claim they own.
As instigators have initiated deceit...
Feast together,
Where they have flown!
Yet unknown to them...
Descends from skies to hide from them Sun,
Are The Masters of true rule.
From the heavens who come to shock the awed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Haunting Forevermore
How should I know?
I am not the one to try for treason!
Hide behind lies and distorted histories.
Create your own symbolic dieties.
And still gluttony and your greed,
Will not set you free.
I am not the one to try for treason!
Live high and mighty on the hog of resources,
You have come to hoard.
But those objects and things you have come to adore,
Will become worthless when they rust.
Dripping like a fine slime to ooze on your front door.
I am not the one to try for treason!
And your own thoughts can no longer be trusted.
With those endless hours and days,
You believed would never betray...
To repay,
Those of you who have 'preyed'.
With a knock you can choose to ignore.
If you wish.
Haunting. Haunting. Haunting forevermore.
Inside your mind and this can not be dismissed.
Never again with an assistance like before.
Haunting.
Haunting.
Haunting,
Forevermore!
I am not the one to try for treason!
'Grandpa? Snap out of it!
Are there anymore 'Gummy Bears' left?
Or not?
That's all I asked! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sick With Self Inflicted Pain
Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.
Many minds like these,
Are not often seen sitting on fences.
Minds encouraged and convinced,
Become defensive...
When shown they are wrong.
And an offensiveness begins...
To shutdown with a stubbornness,
That creates their own unhealing wounds!
Heads thick and fantasized,
Have minds closed and prevent...
Abilities to reason.
Or rationalize with common sense.
And around those with heads thick,
Are walls cemented with a lifetime...
Of an ignorance sick with self inflicted pain.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Somewhere Deep Inside Your Denials Kept
Heckled by the hecklers,
Now found splintered by their own grief.
So easy was it for them to ridicule...
When they had the safety of employment,
And the backing of what they believed...
Was an economy strong to support their taunts!
Now haunted by their flaunting ways,
To portray themselves as a better class.
With some among them now asking why,
If they are so superior...
Why have those they've elected to protect them...
Blatantly ignore them and treat them like common trash?
'Oh...?
Your trash has been common for quite a while!
That is what those of deceiving greed do.
Psych and hype up the minds to gain trust.
And suck up your resources...
While they ensure you are entertained by concepts of greed,
And the need to feed temptations and lust!
Then with a pinch of fear to inflict.
With a dominating hatred...
Towards those who are promoted as enemies.
Using one's color and religion as excuses to begin.
And then to spread the word,
They are coming...coming they are,
To destroy the interests of those addicted...
To a way of life nonexisting.
Only in the throes of propaganda!
As seen on TV and in commercial ads.
And then with that as a distraction...
All funds are pocketed and then they run!
Isn't that not obvious? '
~But we are children of the chosen! ~
'You have been chosen?
Yes!
Oh yes.You have! Most definitely.
You have been chosen...
To be duped, hoodwinked, bamboozled, smoked screened...
Lied to with deceit and stripped of your resources.
And I'll refrain from calling you a sucker.
Somewhere deep inside your denials kept,
I am sure you now have a clue already hinting.
With a manifesting...
Supporting the widening of your eyes! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mind Fed Rituals
When determined people,
Pray to God to have their way...
And God sends to them messengers,
To scream from bullhorns...
This is not going to happen.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
People like this will make their mission,
To enlist others to value their point of view.
Even to select and depict those unknowing,
They have been chosen as culprits...
By someone who did not like,
How they were told...
To remove their rose colored glasses!
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
Leave people like this.
These people only value,
The physical aspects of life.
And the 'spiritual' side of it...
Is a routine of mind fed rituals,
Outdated by a lack indepth perception.
Leave people like this.
Do not attempt to make bargains...
With the use of common sense.
A common sense for many,
That has been diluted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pitstop
In my pain remaining,
You still dropp more of it.
As if I occupy a pitstop.
And I am there...
To replenish your need,
To gas up...
As you retire your worn out displeasures,
To rebuckle for a rebooting...
For a race you keep,
To speed away to leave me broken.
I pray for you!
To Stop this dance you do with evil.
But emotionally you wish me drained.
So no one else can see,
Who re-energizes you...
After you are through abusing me.
But one day you will come not to feel this way.
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
Behind closed doors,
You will begin to feel trapped.
By a consciousness that visits.
And your past misdeeds will plead to be forgiven.
But...
From whom or what,
Will release you from those pitstops,
That left me strickened as you struck...
With a letting go for a public showing.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
In my pain remaining,
You would dropp more of it.
As if I occupied a pitstop.
And I was there...
To replenish your need,
To gas up...
As you retired your worn out displeasures.
To rebuckle for a rebooting...
For a race you kept,
To speed away to leave me broken.
One day you will come not to feel this way.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
'Stop it,
Let me go.'
The scars dropped by the clock...
Will inflict upon your mind reminders.
And it will be your misdeeds.
Not me to haunt you.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accustomed To An Irrational Way Of Life
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
Especially when one's standing,
On debts owed.
Requires one to pay up,
For an out of control feasting to be paid.
As a 'sensible' way to pay for it with 'cash'.
Something demanded that one does not have.
And to state with a dignified presence,
That those awaiting to be paid for those losses generated.
Should be the ones already suffering,
From those mistakes made by those who fed at the feast.
To leave it in shambles,
And the ones left starving and homeless.
Are responsible and accountable to pay for a mess,
While those greedy keep.
Not only what they have hoarded,
But also the resources stuffed in their overflowing pockets.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
And
They have no intention to pay a cent,
For what has been spent.
To sustain their lofty positions,
Because they have been hypnotized.
On rights of their entitlements.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Is like introducing a reality never known.
Nor will that reality expressed be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Messages Sent
They are not learning...
Mother Nature.
As they watch,
Their treasures burn.
From hilltops and valleys...
Messages sent.
Ignored they went.
Now a scorn upon them,
Has been justifiably earned.
They are not learning...
Mother Nature.
As sacred waters dry their cups.
Too long they have observed,
The suffering of others...
Now they cry in sorrow.
Giving up!
Finding themselves
In the same dreadful rut!
When for us,
Will this be enough?
They are not learning...
Mother nature!
No words spoken to convince
Have they heard.
With beliefs of squandered resources...
Will bestow upon them as your favorite choice.
To sing with wings and chirp like birds.
Rising consciousness as never before...
As humanity drifts towards new horizons.
Breaking down oppositions,
And expanding on new mental shores.
This comes for us...
And will not be ignored!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seeking Class Not Pizzazz
The only thing people can declare
Rightfully theirs
Without a doubt
Is their debt
And nothing else they possess
Can be claimed to have achieved
Such greatness as they have been taught
To perceive
Such endeavors as these
Without a hint of guilt expressed
And that is a remarkable sign of...
Of...
Of...
'Longevity? '
No!
'Self centered idealism? '
No!
Although I 'feel' your sentiments!
But no!
'Gluttony, Greed, deceit, dishonesty? '
No.
That has already been determinded,
By those staring at the mummified remains
Of Egyptians during the last museum tours.
'I think I've got it!
Listen to this...
'Without a hint of guilt expressed
And that is a remarkable sign of...'
A lack of lust for life! '
I can see why you are not a writer.
That sits no where near being profound!
Oh,
Here we go...
'Without a hint of guilt expressed
And that is a remarkable sign of...
Sadness! '
'Of what?
SADNESS?
That has no pizzazz! '
I'm seeking class not pizzazz.
And there 'is' a difference!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Adjusting American Credit Ratings
17.3
trillion dollars
staggering
US faulting
on debt
flee
higher internet
rates 4 money rejecting
big business spending
cuts
but
American mega
rich are exempt
from all taxes pending
just raise debt ceiling
it's
been raised spending
countless times infesting
poor people's pockets
political leadership whims
sleight
of hand finances
American magic markers
erases 4 trillions
in American gross debt
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in July 2011 on the 5.7.2011.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet: Nature Feeds its Other Creatures Superbly
The Guavas o’er-ripe highest on the tree,
For long by humans unbothered remain;
Squirrels and birds come eat them happily;
God’s charity is enormous like rain.
Thus, Nature feeds creatures in unseen ways,
With berries, leaves that men care not to pluck;
The dumb creatures thus spend their living days,
From Antelopes, Ants, Squirrels to wild Duck.
A few men practice real charity;
This is by habit and not ignorance;
And Nature too can kill without pity;
When famine strikes, it is a ‘Skeletal-dance’!
God feeds His creatures through Mother Nature,
Who knows their problems well of their future.
poem by John Celes
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Pointless To Make Attempts WITH Common Sense
Is a power taken,
The same as a power given?
And how much power,
Does a power that has been taken have...
If those that did not give it,
Deem it as useless?
And if those who deem a power taken,
As being useless...
How powerful can that power remain?
And over what or whom,
Does one with useless power...
Have it kept in their minds believed?
It is pointless to make attempts,
WITH common sense...
To anyone who has money,
That money hoarded has no power at all.
It is only when it is distributed,
That the power of it is most effective.
One's greed,
Eventually defeats a blinded perception.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Was Given Away
What was given away,
Is now desired back.
And those who now posess what was given...
Can not be blamed for laughing at that.
And those who are making demands,
On borrowed time and funds...
Protest amongst themselves,
With regrets that upset...
That one freshly elected,
Is the culprit that did this to everyone.
As if their greed did not exist.
And the one who sits high in leadership,
Intentionally knew before he arrived...
He was expected to keep their fantasies alive.
With a keeping of a sparkling credit history,
Unaffected as the people continued to feed...
Owing those now closing their pockets.
Who question...
Not anyone's ability to label themselves 'great'.
But payments that are due, unpaid or even coming in late.
And yet,
Requests still pour in to those that lend...
To cover what to them,
Was not a gift to dismiss but a loan.
And...
Alone and distanced,
Are those attempting to infuse in the proceedings...
Any remnants of common sense.
Since it seems,
As though the greeding of those who feed,
Have long been detached from it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Good Man In A Storm
it just occurred to me
I must be blind
why do I try so hard to keep my cool
when I'm about to lose my mind
there was a vision
flashing by
of a summers' day I spent with you
of a child who never learnt how to cry
when those around me
fall in despair
I call upon my common sense
'cause someone has to care
a sudden decision
I can't explain
though I've often tried to change the rules
the game remains the same
for love
I've played the part so many times
it fits me like a glove
but I'm the victim
in the bitter end
I know you need me to be strong
l just don't know how much longer I can pretend
you always need me to be
a good man in a storm
it sometimes scares me
the further we go
just how much we understand
and just how much we know
so whatever happened
in our hearts
while making perfect sense of life
we still remain so far apart
you always want me to be
a good man in a storm
trying to fit the social norm
and be a good man in a storm
trying hard since I was born
to be a good man in a storm
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Getting Away With It
Like an appendage attached.
And there to feed.
Not to assist in the nourishment.
Or to restore an energy,
Supplied by encouragement.
But there to defend,
The protectiveness of this leeching.
Like an appendage attached.
And there to feed an excessive gluttony,
Of progressive greed.
Draining to succeed to bleed an obsession.
To feast!
Whether or not...
The programming of this beast is stopped!
Conditioned,
To getting away with it!
And delusioned...
Never to be prevented.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Good Man In The Storm
It just occurred to me
I must be blind
Why do I try so hard to keep my cool
When Im about to lose my mind
There was a vision
Flashing by
Of a summers day I spent with you
Of a child who never learnt how to cry
When those around me
Fall in despair
I call upon my common sense
cause someone has to care
A sudden decision
I cant explain
Though Ive often tried to change the rules
The game remains the same
For love
Ive played the part so many times
It fits me like a glove
But Im the victim
In the bitter end
I know you need me to be strong
L just dont know how much longer I can pretend
You always need me to be
A good man in a storm
It sometimes scares me
The further we go
Just how much we understand
And just how much we know
So whatever happened
In our hearts
While making perfect sense of life
We still remain so far apart
You always want me to be
A good man in a storm
Trying to fit the social norm
And be a good man in a storm
Trying hard since I was born
To be a good man in a storm
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Initiated to Protect Their Diminshing Freedoms
Too few too long,
Have not been listened to.
Those few so strong and brave,
Have sacrificed their lives..
And unafraid to raise their voices,
High.
Are not on these scenes,
To be demeaned anymore.
Too many convinced,
Their way of life defended...
To them had made sense.
With an allowing to leave them,
To be indifferent.
And all today who now can see,
Have come to realize...
Their priorities lived have been deceived.
Too few too long,
Have not been listened to.
Those few so strong and brave,
Have sacrificed their lives..
And unafraid to raise their voices,
High.
Are not on these scenes,
To be demeaned anymore.
And now today no one can escape,
What has been valued...
Has been reappraised.
With a wish for comprehension,
And a spreading of empathy will come their way...
As more and more on warring shores,
Find themselves caught up...
To free their minds,
From a raging craze that with them stays.
Initiated to protect their diminshing freedoms.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Freedoms Now Enjoyed
They wish for him not to win.
They say with him,
The government would rule,
Every aspect of our lives.
They say with him,
The government would end...
Freedoms now enjoyed!
Which of those 'freedoms' now enjoyed,
Are not taxed by the government?
With or without him winning!
Unless they speak of the breath,
We now breathe.
Increasingly polluted.
With no decrease of greed that feeds it.
And he who runs to end this need...
They say he is without experience to lead!
Although an hypocriscy keeps them bleeding.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deliveries Made To Please
Have you ever tried to stop,
Those who have come to feed at a feast?
With an invitation of greed encouraged.
And not a sign of discipline,
To cease the craving of their whims.
Have you ever tried to decrease one's gluttony?
Released from one who has turned into a beast?
Have you ever had your fingers bitten,
By a pet accustomed to being rewarded...
With top choice beef or other approved treats?
Try stopping it!
And the outcome may have you defeated.
And/or beaten into a coma induced sleep.
Maybe even hospitalized...
If not paralyzed.
Coming to a consciousness that finally realizes...
Many do not readily embrace,
A diminishing of supplies denied.
And expectations anticipated,
On a regular basis fed...
Have those caring less,
Who provides those ample dropped deposits.
They want deliveries made to please...
That's it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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