In a Duplicitous Existence
One's creativity felt with depthness,
Is not from birth born...
To generate repeated dishonesty.
As if from an assembly line produced...
And marketed to exploit.
With a false annointment.
It seems those who seek notoriety,
Are not connected to originality at all.
They've become afflicted with plagiaristic deeds.
Feeding a hollowness with a hope to succeed,
In a duplicitous existence.
As if a fixation with this makes the difference.
To make claims one is attached,
With that which is understood...
From origins inside of them to match,
Belies what is exposed.
These folks only know what to them has been shown.
And then with a defacing...
They wish to get acknowledgement for 'their' greatness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
With a Focus More Noticed
There is a difference when one stumbles,
In a crumble that humbles.
It is noticed with more focused,
When notoriety is attached.
There is a difference when one speaks,
With a tone that seems to reach...
Beyond definition.
And there is a difference influenced by comprehension...
When ignorance is fought.
And a breaching of it leaks.
That which is taught...
Is feared by those who refuse to see,
A rise in higher consciousness.
And freely given by those who teach.
With a focus more noticed,
When notoriety is attached.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Belief System
Some folks do things,
Because they want others to 'believe'...
They 'are' somebody.
Who knows what's up,
The sleeves of people like these.
And those folks with 'beliefs'
Who know they have 'always' been 'somebody'
Don't need to look for acknowledgement.
They are going to get it anyway.
Because of who they are!
And wherever they are...
Good deeds done,
Seem to be always something done they do.
There is no belief system used to convince.
There is an obviousness without the need to mention.
It is in the existence,
That transcends what may or may not be...
What comes forward off of people's lips,
For others to physically with their eyes see.
And...
It is not because of what they want others to believe!
That this is so,
From embellished exaggerations.
Entertaining and released from an implementation.
And fantasies from them born...
To come to life and grow!
It is in the observation,
That proves a deserving worthiness...
Upon which others bestow,
Those of merit that receive attention.
Leaving to be distanced,
Those folks who wish others to believe
They are 'somebody'.
And they are...
Provoked into some self serving action.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innovators that Supply the Real Juice
To no one's surprise,
The 'fly-by-nights' regurgitate...
For notoriety purposes that is plagiarized.
Believing what they add to discovery is originality.
And none of it from them can be produced.
Not from minds with eyes probing to redefine,
The invention of the wheel.
With a reducing of innovators that supply the real juice,
Quite noticeable from an absence of a certain delivery...
With something that identifies a style with bite.
This taste is gone.
Like the removal of salt and butter...
From anticipated fresh and heated popcorn.
And this is an obvious omission,
Diluted by those chipping away...
With a hope to experience their names up in neon.
At someone else's labored expense and creativity.
But they get away with it,
Since mediocrity sells and quicker to release...
From a mind using thought as a process to steal.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Thunderous Accolades
Moments of greatness,
Do not come and bestow themselves...
Upon the shoulders of those in waiting.
These moments of greatness are achieved,
By those unlikely to believe they are deserving.
They are not self serving types of people.
They are people of deeds!
Not folks perceiving themselves as great.
To adorn an ego to be pleased.
They feel themselves to be just common folks,
Who accomplish from depths of purpose.
Not those who are on the surface...
Anticipating to salivate acknowledgements shown,
While thrown in the center,
Of thunderous accolades!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Investigating Improprieties
Investigating Improprieties,
Promises to undo
A way of life historically pursued.
And had been based upon them,
With a flair that flourished affairs.
Those with outcries,
To expose and uncover lies denied...
Have placed their own existence,
In a jeopardy that threatens a pretense...
That had molded together,
Thieving dignities.
And foundations comprised,
On tweaked claims and alibis...
Unravels a society fantasized!
As truth concealed reveals...
An undoing of shattered myths,
Given life to breathe!
Leaving the purpose of taxation,
The core to finance an ending greed.
The seed that fed,
Their need to seek a greatness!
Will this acknowledgement cease their probe?
And advance them with this self assessment.
Or will they stay frozen...
In an accepted ignorance they chose!
A truth pursued can be cruel and crude.
And...
Connected to released freedoms.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unstable and Unfit
When people hide behind deceptions...
As if they are walls of cement.
These are the folks who do not realize...
Their lies have fenced them inside mentalities,
To eventually show themselves as demented.
They do not perceive dishonesty as weak.
As long as they are in the reception...
Of others with similar beliefs.
And when folks like this,
Come to unite together in a collectiveness...
They do not realize their acts develop illnesses.
And they rush to seek perscriptions quick,
From those who benefit...
Handsomely,
By keeping them addicted to such sickness.
In industries that hospitalized them...
With not a chance to confront,
The healing that mends the origins of their afflictions.
If that happened,
None of this would exist!
But there is a need to keep them mentally,
And physically dependent!
Socially unstable.
And psychologically unfit!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Platitudinous Pleasures
I am not attached to platitudinous remarks.
As I reflect on particular abilities!
Really I am not.
Not on this journey I have embarked.
Do you honestly believe an ego is attached to this?
That some trite comments would give me a lift?
Do you realize how long this inside me has existed?
If you only knew...
More of a communication could have been pursued.
I have been on the pursuit of understanding...
For quite a few years.
Expressing these thoughts,
Is a gift to me God has chosen to give.
Inside of me still lives...
A craving to see others be and live as free!
I find that they are not.
No...
Especially after a glass or two of beer,
And/or wine...
With a shot of pepperment schnapps!
And perhaps...
A wee bit of blackberry brandy.
To give thoughts like these a start!
You see...
That's when a 'clarity' comes to visit me!
It seems only 'we' who know what this means...
Are connected to express,
A certain 'clearness' found to inspect.
Only to have those explain it as a creative process.
But not as a depthness coming from a heart,
That others feel free to critique...
And rip apart.
But not choosing to see or believe,
A bleeding of sorts is being done...
By those who neither find it a thrill or fun,
To have their guts poured to be ignored.
And evaluated as a tripping ego,
Wishing to be adored!
This is not that kind of discipline...
To have exposed on the surface,
Without 'something' being connected from deep within!
Who in their right minds,
Would spend their entire lives 'trying' to be defined.
If they did not already have definition?
That is not the journey...
Or the mission!
Or the condition of purpose meant.
Like the sipping of schnapps that are peppermint.
With a twist of lemon and maybe lime to add scent.
And losing an effectiveness earlier sent.
Now...
If that was known,
None of this would be necessary!
Or revealed as a gift...
Given to achieve 'something' believed.
Would it?
No need to respond.
I can handle this!
Could it be...
Just for useless platitudinous pleasures to receive?
And an overglorified ambition,
To mentally tease readers?
I think not!
Anyone who can make some kind of mind attachment...
To this rambling inebriated nonsense,
In which I am in no condition to repeat...
Is welcomed to the last of my brandy.
Sharing is one of my greatest talents.
And for that,
I seek no applause!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Blame Your Baby's Mama
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
Oh you're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
But you blame your baby's mama.
And she's tired of your drama.
Yes!
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
But you blame your baby's mama.
And she's tired of your...
DRAMA.
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
With a 'should of'...
And a private stash If you had 'moolah',
Packed in stacks.
You are afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
You're a kid afflicted.
Bringing her nothing,
But all of your drama.
You're afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
As if she wishes,
Not a man...
But a boy of high drama.
You're one of the 'could ofs'...
With an 'if' attached.
And a 'would of'...
As a perfect match.
You're afflicted,
To dump on your baby's mama.
As if she wishes,
Not a man...
But a boy of high drama.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Outdated Praise
My experiences seem to peak...
When treated,
With the fresh flowing...
Of creativity at its birth.
Arriving on Earth from the unknown.
For redundant examinations!
To expose myself to repeated visits,
With wishes to be affected,
As expected...
By those who make attempts,
To re-invent an exposed fresh flow.
Is for me too conforming.
With a 'boring' done and shown!
It for me is like trying to find new ways,
To tie shoes...
I've known have worn out.
And doing my best to develop an interest,
In the activity.
Although they may comfort my steps,
When I walk about.
The wear and tear is there to express this!
My need to be excited by innovation,
Is not comprehended by those...
Seeking to authorize a familiarity!
To eventually announce an acceptance,
With outdated praise.
To those subjected to limited vision...
This is okay.
Who am I to say it isn't?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Creativity is a great motivator because it makes people interested in what they are doing. Creativity gives hope that there can be a worthwhile idea. Creativity gives the possibility of some sort of achievement to everyone. Creativity makes life more fun and more interesting.
quote by Edward de Bono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suddenly I'm No Longer Attached
Suddenly I'm no longer attached,
And there is something inside of me
That welcomes that.
Years of my activities,
And concern...
Would leave me quite frantic.
Feeling overworked, strained and burned.
I am satisfied with those things I've tried.
And making a footprint no one can deny.
Everywhere I placed my steps,
Not one did I do without dignity and pride.
I need no one to qualify my stride.
My mark has been placed,
Before and not behind witnessing eyes.
I seek no approval for my deeds neglected.
I'm not awed by applause.
My functions have been upfront.
And for some the intent,
Has been meant to be most personal.
I'm not a backside biter!
And that is a fact!
Suddenly I'm no longer attached,
And there is something inside of me
That welcomes that.
That You, Father.
As long as You are pleased!
With me and deeds I've created,
You have helped me make to leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reaching The Pinnacle
Greatness!
And reaching the pinnacle,
Of fame and success...
Obtained carefully and taken by steps.
Can leave one unsuspecting...
Breathless.
And insecure at such a lofty height.
But that greatness achieved,
Is not a timeless annointment...
To be left to go unchecked.
Without a truth one should face,
With all that there is centered upon it...
To maintain as greatness is accomplished.
Can never be disrespected or it eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The One Thing About Knowing
The one thing about knowing,
Is its ability not to be undone.
Once something is known,
An acknowledgement of it...
To others become easily shown.
And that knowledge shown,
May come to show others despising it.
Depending on who sees what one has,
As a lasting benefit.
Since those who are not afraid of knowledge,
Feel freer to leave behind their ignorance.
The one thing about knowing,
Whether or not it is documented...
Is its ability not to be undone.
Once something is known,
An acknowledgement of it...
To others become easily shown.
And few are found to run away,
From its presence or existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Speeeeeech!
does it make difference you speak in front of many people or alone
does it make difference you speech in historic place or in your toilet
does it make difference you are charismatic leader or unknown beggar from streetside
it makes difference you speak to clash conflict or for better world
it makes difference you speech bonded by past or to move forward
it makes difference you depend by fact or just soap service
does it make difference you read from text or speak fluently
does it make difference you speech in busy market or deserted mountain
does it make difference you write words yourself or scrap it from books and paper
it makes difference everybody exitedly listens or sleeps peacefully on their seats
it makes difference you have freedom to speak or prisoned by intimidation
it makes difference it gives effect or just a long boring speech
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Understood Suspicion
Sure I hear him say he is not like the rest.
And for many years he has been with them...
Going along.
And yet he says he had protested,
Those things done as he resisted.
If I choose not to be with anyone I do not wish...
It will not take me years,
To convince anyone or myself of this.
Sure I hear him say he has policies of change.
But there is something about someone,
Who makes claims like that...
But somehow represents conditions that remain,
Unchanged and the same.
It would be better if he wasn't a politician.
Those years he says he has been a maverick...
What makes him think,
If he has had no influence all this time...
Why would anyone give him more of it,
To sit with him and listen?
Folks today would do and say anything...
And knowing this from experience,
Leaves many distrusting with understood suspicion.
When a snake is spotted...
Most folks would not approach it,
To discover whether it was poisonous or not!
Like a dog with teeth...
It decides who and when it wishes to bite!
Remember this...
And I quote,
'What's the difference between a pitbull,
And a hockey mom?
Lipstick! '
And he has already declared women in politics,
As lipstick wearing pigs!
These are not 'those times'.
These are the times...
That 'IS'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Center of Golden Trinkets
The greatness of this land...
Goes uncelebrated on foreign soil,
Where oil is abundant and sold to enrich...
The lives of those upon land God has chosen,
For 'them' to nourish and enrich themselves!
'May the eyes of the wise open! '
No one can fake an ownership that does not exist.
The consciousness of the Earth will not permit it!
A divineness given has made some minds sick...
With a wicked self centeredness that is going to be punished.
'May the eyes of the wise open! '
Integrity kept was not swept away by the feeding of greed.
It stay and wanted to share resources.
Forces proceeded to addict a mindset to things.
Increasing the need to fill empty spaces with waste.
And the luxury of bad taste.
With the acceptance of disrespect.
As well as a lack of discipline...
And that which is connected.
'May the eyes of the wise open! '
Dishonesty became the treason of pride.
Not too many hid that they lied to get what they wished...
And did.
What.
They.
Wanted to do!
Dishonesty became the treason of pride.
Not too many hid that they lied to get what they wished...
And did.
What.
They.
Wanted to do!
Integrity kept was not swept away by the feeding of greed.
In fact...
Any who had any of that left,
Wept!
And helplessly stood by to watch their country bleed.
Dishonesty became the treason of pride.
Not too many hid that they lied to get what they wished...
And did.
What.
They.
Wanted to do!
'May the eyes of the wise open! '
The greatness of this land...
Goes uncelebrated on foreign soil,
Where oil is abundant and sold to enrich...
The lives of those upon land God has chosen,
For 'them' to nourish and enrich themselves!
But others too impatient to wait for God's command...
Believed they only had to steal to find themselves the chosen.
To find themselves the center of golden trinkets to adorn,
And distract!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gone Unknown By Those Who Feast
Some are born to sow beliefs,
To seed the growth of their feeding.
With a sewing done to aid their flourishing.
Many sit to watch a seeding sown,
To gather from a harvest...
With a feeding of their selfish needs shown.
And those familiar with others,
Misrepresenting the dispersement of their deeds...
Gone unknown by those who feast.
Are the least concern where it is they go,
To sow with a planting of their feet.
With tools provided to allow them to eat,
From 'Whom' bestows those seeds kept to grow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Limitations of Tranquility
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known...
Share it with those in need.
Especially those who feed on myths.
Trying their best to fit in...
A history they affix to a reality
That has been tricked and rewritten!
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known...
Some people can not accept,
Their ancestors were thieves and heathens.
Who worshipped their sins in dens of evil.
And now they pay for these medieval deeds!
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known.
It is shown they have an absence of this.
Their entire existence has them betwixt...
Having an intelligence that sits
Within borders of treason!
They can not reason.
They accept others outside of their barricades,
As odd and below façades they've made.
They have no idea,
They bring fear amongst themselves!
To endear conflict they instill to thrive to prosper.
And deluded with limitations of tranquility.
That has weakened a peace...
From those they spend in frustrations to conquer.
You have to give some folks much love.
If you have it and it's known.
They do not know it.
This has never to them been shown!
They are descendents of war!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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(The) Depthness of This Kind of Introspect...
There are many poems I've written,
That have not been read or 'rated'.
I can understand,
How some may find that a need...
When insecurity most writers feed.
And there are those gregarious folks,
Enjoying their closeness.
Who do prefer their own company.
Or socialize with those expressing...
How they maintain a degree of 'normalcy'.
While all find themselves accepting...
Dysfunctions none regret.
And I find myself more respected,
By those who know...
With an acknowledgement familiar.
That does not criticize or demean,
The depthness of this kind of introspect...
With an intellect encouraged and shared,
And freely felt to expose upon these scenes...
With those who are unopposed to show their caring.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Indifference / Alive
I will light the match this mornin' so I won't be alone
Watch as she lies silent for soon that will be gone
Oh I will stand arms outstretched pretend I'm free to roam
I will make my way through one more day in hell
How much difference does it make
How much difference does it make
I will hold the candle till it burns up my arm
Oh I'll keep takin' punches ha-ha until their will grows tired
Oh I will stare the sun down until my eyes go blind
Hey I won't change direction and I won't change my mind
How much difference does it make yea
How much difference does it make how much difference
I'll swallow poison until I grow immune
I will scream my lungs out till it fills this room
How much difference (x2)
How much difference does it make yea
How much difference does it make
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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