In The End
Everyday and in many ways,
Our lives lived is another test to pass.
Like a taking of a quiz.
With answers heard that are daily given,
For a patience to wait to escape from reality.
And every few years people solicit...
With expensive campaigns,
In the supporting of a leader politcally correct...
Who will correct those sorrows and pains,
To remain us all who benefits and gains.
And in the end,
We get more accustomed...
To the bending of our backs,
With complaints of who is not delivering...
That accepted touch that does not affect delusions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Politically Correct
If you sing out Baa Baa Blacksheep,
It will have a terrible effect,
Who tells us that this song is bad,
The Politically Correct.
Enter our country illegally,
Then show us no respect,
Will we send you straight back, no,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
We're told not to smack our children,
As their minds it will affect,
That is why they run amok,
Thanks,
The Politically Correct.
If you have a criminal mind,
Then join a violent sect,
We won't hold this against you,
We're,
Politically Correct.
If you break in to a house or bank,
Your booty to collect,
We'll put you up if you get caught,
That's,
Politically Correct.
If you're addicted to illegal drugs,
We'll rush in to protect,
We'll say you are a poor wee soul, why?
It's,
Politically Correct.
You can take cocaine and smoke your hash,
Illegal drugs you can inject,
We're not allowed to stop you because,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
If you say Shhhh! Black or White,
Then I'm afraid you can expect,
To be told you're out of order by,
The Politically Correct.
How dare you celebrate Christmas,
That's a time we must all reject,
All Christians are now redundant,
Who says?
The Politically Correct.
We must now rewrite our history,
Our past must now be checked,
We cannot say we won the war,
It's not,
Politically Correct.
Politicians the world over,
Have their fiddles go unchecked,
Why? Because they make the rules,
They're,
The Politically Correct.
Terrorists murder ever day,
On our system this does reflect,
Are we allowed to hang them, no,
We must be,
Politically Correct.
If we try to deport these murdering scum,
We're told we must not neglect,
The fact we're placing them in danger,
That's not,
Politically Correct.
If we hurt their feelings and make them cry,
We must forget those lives they wrecked,
Try to be understanding,
It's,
Politically Correct.
We spend millions on interpreters,
But we're not allowed to object,
We can't force them to speak our dialogue,
Say,
The Politically Correct.
The government now want to seek me out,
I know now that I must defect,
For what I've put in writing's not,
‘' Politically Correct''
More Eyes Are Opened Wide
They wish to blame their failures,
On someone that isn't there yet.
Someone who isn't officially their leader.
Someone who respects,
The one who led them and created their mess.
And yet this new leader,
Is expected to correct this!
He is one who is highly respected.
But a crisis that affects their lives...
Had been their before his brilliance,
Was long suspected!
And that leader who diminished,
Their quality of life...
They followed and allowed him,
To destroy their values.
As it is observed and reflected.
And the new leader,
Although black...
Is expected to restore their dignity.
And quickly clean up their filthy dirty tracts.
As has been historically accustomed.
But these times more eyes are opened wide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stepping At Least An Inch Away
Choosing to live one's life,
Honestly...
Would seem to be a no brainer,
For many.
But there are those who have chosen,
To hide their lives behind deceit,
And praying daily to be saved...
From reality.
And I am not the one to say,
From delusions it is easy to wake up.
Or pray what is accustomed for some to go away.
But I know that stepping at least an inch...
Away from one's self everyday,
Helps to remove all kinds of restrictions.
And if attempted more than this,
Can be witnessed and realized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irresponsibility Had Been The Main Course
With a strapping that is saddled,
On the backs of the middle class...
Unhappy are the legal thieves,
Who express sadness those promises...
A bona fide leader made,
But could not deliver...
Or to them pass!
And perhaps that leader is correct.
Since when promises were spoken,
The economy was not so openly broken.
People 'then' were not as affected...
By unsuspecting crooks behind the scenes,
Dressed in suits and running off with all the loot.
To leave them without funds,
And their bank accounts cleaned.
And now as the sand in the hour glass descends...
Deceivers wish to transfer their lack of accountability,
On the shoulders of this leader...
Until his back bends.
With pretensions they dismiss,
As this leader defends his judgements that are 'hissed'.
When an irresponsibility had been the main course,
Long before his leadership began to exist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It was taunted as reality. It was dangled as a carrot. In terms of people's hopes and dreams, to say that that is less of a reality than the daily grind they find themselves in is maybe not correct.
quote by Martin Mull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One of my complaints is that you've got far more scientists than ever before but the pace of discovery has not increased. Why? Because they're all busy just filling in the details of what they think is the standard story. And the youngsters, the people with different ideas have just as big a fight as ever and normally it takes decades for science to correct itself. But science does correct itself and that's the reason why science is such a glorious thing for our species.
quote by Nigel Calder
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Increasingly Addicted
Cultural and self hate issues,
Will remain to stay...
For those unable to face them to correct.
With a choosing to view them not as foolish,
But choices made embedded forever to accept.
And people living where hate crimes exist,
Have been fed with beliefs what is done is moralistic.
With a hoping that a praying of truths away...
Will someday validate their animalistic ways.
Many are embarrassed by realities.
Believing themselves immuned...
From truth obvious and seen.
Too many have been taught truth demeans.
And many are rooted in concepts held,
That if a telling of a lie is kept long enough...
Their denials will rise to heights.
And facts that exist will vanish from their eyes.
Cultural and self hate issues,
Will remain to stay...
For those unable to face them to correct.
With a choosing to view them not as foolish...
But tools to use to abuse for amusement.
Labelling people evil who speak with truth,
To keep lives lived unchanged and deluded...
Only transfers those minds medicated on fantasies,
To become increasingly addicted...
Limited and mentally sick.
For all eventually wishing to awaken from this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To govern is to correct. If you set an example by being correct, who would dare remain incorrect?
Postmodern Light
If you don't support ‘progress’
You're not politically correct
Though often it is pure foulness
A perfect product of the imperfect.
If you believe in freedom
Yes, you're politically correct
But one's liberty is another's serfdom
Power in the hand of the elect.
If you're not a feminist
You're not politically correct
So do not swing your fist
Even when you are erect.
Your values and tradition
Are politically correct, perhaps,
If your divorces keep going on
Imbued with other family mishaps.
If you're not a ‘postmodern’
You're not politically correct
So just raise high your lantern
And irradiate for stage effect.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teleprompted Speeches
Teleprompted speeches
Prepared to deliver daily hype,
From those caught up in worshipping
The onslaught of their own dysfunctions!
And explanations are crafted.
Repeating disbelief,
In an accepted way as to not project
Total ignorance of the subject!
And lack of interest!
Direct eye contact is preferred.
There is something about it that can be trusted!
However...
So many are skilled at deception these days.
Watching one's brow furrowed...
Shows more frustration than truth is inside that head!
This hype keeps them up at night,
Hoping an obvious loss of credibility...
Will magically appear through presence and stature.
And all of this preparation is an act to deceive.
That's why they can not find peace in sleep!
The comfort of keeping their delusions scrolled.
Line after line defining times of crimes and corruption.
Hoping such methods will ease the shock that comes...
To those already numbed by marathoned appearances,
Of crooks protecting themselves!
And imaging leadership qualifications in expensive suits!
Duping hoodwinkers have one pursuit in their minds.
And that's to have you find them,
Worthy to represent...
Myths and beliefs that do not exist.
However,
The delusion to keep them as a process
Of a quality of life sustained in total fantasy...
And founded on criminal values,
Will maintain a christian charade.
And if these hypocrisies are attack...
At least the one who is elected,
Has to convince he or she has the experience
To lie brilliantly under pressure!
But the one not prompted to be perceived as packaged...
Should be selected.
However,
His competence and fantasticness overwhelms.
And they are not accustomed to that at all.
In fact that kind of commitment frightens them.
Nothing had they seen like this before.
Someone they can believe in comes.
And they are suspicious.
The others ready to perform their tricks...
Will lie in a minute.
Claiming what is seen on videotaped playbacks,
Has been misunderstood!
And this is what the people misrepresented,
Have been saying all along.
They have been misunderstood!
Teleprompted speeches will never reflect sorrows,
Or the patience they have had to endure...
Observing the costs of these self serving acts!
Written by folks so completely out of touch.
And so far removed from reality.
And so far removed from reality.
And so far removed from reality.
And so far...
It doesn't pay to practice.
There will still be malfunctions.
And no time to memorize which lies to tell!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Their Closest Relatives
People hypnotized and transfixed,
Have grown more accustomed
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
So accustomed to myths,
People are.
And the praying to what is believed,
To what has been embedded
In their minds,
Exists.
People do not wish to be told,
About the thought process of Nature.
And how that goes.
Or about Earth and Mother Nature.
The relationship between them.
How that works and what they know.
People wish and desire to accept,
They are more powerful
Than that which 'allowed' them life,
And gave to them breath.
People reject with a dismissing of this,
That which gifted them and permitted their lives.
People have grown more accustomed,
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
Yet,
Give zero respect to their closest relatives.
The Sun, The Moon
And how together,
They affect their lives lived here on Earth.
People have chosen to become accustomed,
To ignoring as if they do not hear or listen.
Or are aware of them with comprehension.
People choose not to accept this as is.
People choose to believe from that which exist,
They are not born from it.
People choose for themselves to believe,
For them
There is no connection to perceive.
Even though what is they can not conceive,
Flows through their veins and bleeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Understood To Exclude Them From Truths
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Quick to betray,
If their insecurities are threatened.
But yet to display,
Are their excuses made with few exceptions.
Associations with people like this,
Over time decreases in respect.
Explanations of their neglect...
Eventually from them some should expect.
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Maturity is dismissed,
In the minds of people with this addiction.
And it is unfortunate they allow themselves...
To be chased away by delusions.
With a praying done their delusions will stay,
To be understood to exclude them...
From truths they painfully detest.
And hate to face from day to day.
As a life lived in reality eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Either Now...Or Later!
You are correct.
I could not agree with you more.
I have not been in touch with you.
Nor have I bother to call,
In a few months.
You have a song and dance routine,
I've seen and heard consistently unchanged...
For years.
Your ears remain closed to suggestions,
I propose.
And you say my life lived is delusional.
Since I choose to be uplifted and positive.
I find it incredible that someone like you,
Who quotes from scriptures.
And speaks in tongues with such fortitude...
That God would not listen with the utmost attention!
And your life would then have less,
Of a negative judgemental attitude...
Needing you to address.
Unless God and what I have to you to mention,
Isn't returning to you what your ears wish to hear.
The messages sent to you are ignored.
And your understanding of God,
Is a comprehension for you that isn't near.
However...
One thing I know is absolutely certain!
I am not as nearly as patient as God.
I have yet to be gifted with that kind of time to waste.
Or chase you in games of hide and seek,
While you take notes as to which quotes to provoke.
You are correct.
I could not agree with you more.
I have not been in touch with you.
Nor have I bother to call,
In a few months.
And right now a dialtone given to you,
From the bottom of my giving heart...
Is the only 'thing' I can see useful to you I can offer.
At least in my generous giving of it to you...
You can choose to quickly call someone else?
Either now...or later.
Or elect to sit...
In your own undisturbed quietness!
To you I hope a peace of mind comes.
Either now...
To appreciate.
Or later...
When only God knows,
Whether of not...
If this has been to your advantage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Honest Man
Neither do I claim my self to be an honest man
Nor I do give any guarantee to my woman
I have tried to remain loyal as far as possible
But life has remain problem and full of troubles
I know for sure that she was one of the best
Did all whatever she could and proved true to test
Yet something was troubling and keeping her away
Her behavior was coming definitely on the way
It is sweet tug of war between couples
It is so when they get into doubles
Children change their way of living
It is now question of faith and believing
Some of the interests are forgotten for cordiality
Some of the couples show it as their best quality
Despites lots of difference they try patch up
Keep relation in tact and nicely cover up
There is no need to express regret or feel sorry
Some of the fears keep surfacing and add to worry
Life is another name for on going struggle
Compared to that of timely appearance of water bubble
How come that ship can sail smooth?
People may try very hard in their youth
Yet some of the tricky ways dishearten
The patience runs out of it all of sudden
It takes years of time to adjust
It is almost known and must
As it demands greater degree of understanding
It gives enough of time to correct image and standing
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whatever It Takes To Participate
Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!
Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.
And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.
Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!
And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.
Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Which I Do Not Know
How do I know what I know?
I've accepted faith as my reward,
For understanding.
I've accepted the experience of stumbling...
And not allow defeat,
To stop an ability I have to get back on my feet!
I've accepted humiliation to assist in my self evaluation.
I've accepted criticsms of all kinds.
I've accepted heartbreak to mend any bitterness.
With a forgiveness that God will defend...
And correct misdeeds done!
How do I know what I know?
I know I did not bleed without pain!
I know I did not recover from wounds alone.
I know I don't have all the answers!
And that was the beginning...
Of knowing something I could not debate.
It is what it is.
And could not be what it is not!
How do I know what I know?
That which I do not know...
I do not!
And I will admit,
I am prepared to learn.
'That' I choose not to stop!
I am not living my life to hide from it!
Or deny what it has to offer.
I do observe some fantasizing pain.
I am not that advanced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As If To Digest in The Darkness
Everyday those same voices heard increase!
Everyday
And they
Don't go away
Everyday those same voices heard increase!
Everyday
And they
Don't go away.
It's not like I don't care for people.
But everyday
Their bickering stays.
Everyday those same voices heard increase!
Everyday
And they don't go away.
It's not like I don't care for people.
But everyday
Their bickering stays.
And I've got to get away to watch the Sunset,
To observe them as their silhouettes
Fade on the horizon digested by the darkness,
To get some quietness.
Everyday those same noisy bickering people.
Everyday
Everyday
Everyday those same noisy bickering people.
Everyday
Everyday
And I'm glad when the Sun gets ready to set
To take their bickering silhouettes
Delivering a quietness,
As if to digest in the darkness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sold On Appearances
The way things 'are' on the inside,
For those who live this life...
As it is lived for them,
Isn't as it seems.
From the outside looking in.
Romancing what one thinks,
Does not always match to link...
With the reality lived and experienced,
Across a fence...
Constructed to protect and restrict,
With intentions meant.
The same can be said,
For an invisible brick wall.
We wish to believe what is there...
But what we imagine,
Is not there at all.
And answers to questions are often stalled.
If our perceptions of others were correct,
Would we live our lives more or less happier?
Would we then spend our time,
Requesting forgiveness?
Or would we lend a hand to our fellowman,
Knowing few skip down yellow brick roads!
Or would we find pavement under no one's feet,
Made to sparkle in bright blinding gold.
Even though all of us as sold on appearances.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Correct Me If I Am Wrong
I am to stop my own progress.
To aid you in the taking of your steps.
And when you have elected,
To achieve what it is you need...
You will leave,
To proceed in another direction?
With the taking away from me,
My energy?
With a doing done that leaves,
Me with a lesser energy?
Who is going to assist,
With the replenishing of my needs?
You?
Or am I left to do that on my own?
Correct me if I am wrong.
Will you or will you not...
Take from me,
Only to have it dawn on me...
You have no interest in my needs.
And you have gone.
Correct me if I am wrong.
I've already learned those lessons.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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