Inspired In Minds Within
What will be witnessed that comes to an end,
Is a limited mindset.
With a broader and higher consciousness,
That begins.
People are awaiting for something 'physical'...
That will transcend to deliver them.
When all that we are...
Has been 'spiritually' inspired in minds within.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Stinging of Them That Stuns
When examining the shell of one's being,
It is the core within of experiences...
That is applying the scan doing the sizing up.
And those choosing to judge a book by its cover,
Are the very ones...
Whose minds are corrupt.
And programmed to think in terms...
Of one's good and bad luck.
Everything based on one's physical taste,
Says a lot about one's waste of thought.
And a consciousness limited to value things,
Is a mind that can be easily swayed...
And bought.
With a shallowness that is diminished free,
Of any signs of having an honesty!
And conditioned to be deceiving.
And not believing...
There are those amongst them,
Who are spiritually here...
Just to be righteous in judgement.
And provide performances of good deed.
With the teaching to humanity,
Of how this is done...
To overcome their troubles!
And the stinging of them that stuns.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Weather Balloon That Ascends
There is a concerted effort,
To protect limited mindsets...
With the best of propaganda.
But there is too much truth revealed,
To keep them pursuing delusion like they do.
Especially since a higher consciousness,
Comes to be witnessed as it rises...
On the horizon.
And many are attempting,
To convince those observing...
What is experienced,
Is a weather balloon that ascends.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Is No Need to Be Discouraged By This
No matter what it is you may do,
You are going to meet...
With someone's disapproval.
And there is no need to be discouraged,
By this.
A higher relationship with consciousness,
Approaches.
People don't have to know you!
See you or come in contact...
For their entire lives.
Just to know you exist for some,
Who are ready to dismiss you...
Like a piece of chewing gum,
Is enough to piss them off.
Some folks have been nurtured,
To perceive themselves as having territorial rights.
No matter how united,
States of minds should be!
Because they believe with simple sensibilities,
The air that is free for all of us to breathe...
Has some who are inhaling,
Exhaling without their approval sought.
And someone from the time they were born,
Fed them this impression.
And has led them to the 'Wall of Instability'
For reasons to give them a purpose to live.
With feelings they 'must' defeat,
And conquer over their own insecurities.
Assigned in their minds,
To arrogance and self importance.
No matter how united,
States of minds should be!
There are those who believe,
With simple sensibilities...
The air that is free for all of us to breathe...
Has to meet with their inhaling and exhaling approval.
And they will poison it with conflict,
If they have to protect their interests...
At any cost as witnessed.
However...
There is no need to get discouraged,
By this.
A higher relationship with consciousness,
Approaches.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seen Cleaned and Fed
It is not difficult to leave behind,
Those who do not mentally or spiritually grow.
When one in a higher state of consciousness,
Arrives to that mindset...
It is not a fashion statement made.
Nor a fad to fade when it is replaced.
When a process of growth is progressed...
A change occurs.
Similar to that which is recognized,
Between children wearing diapers.
And adults who wear them too!
Literally and figuratively!
It's in the observation,
That something has leaped...
In both understanding and maturity.
One seeks to cling.
The other wishes to be seen cleaned and fed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When a Consciousness Begins to Lift
When a consciousness begins to lift...
To leave behind foolishness that exists.
There seems to be an acceptance of it.
As if one realizes,
A birth has been committed.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
A release of limitations,
Easily takes a shift.
No longer is one concerned,
About winning conflicts with enemies burned.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It becomes easier to observe,
Those disturbed and their afflictions addicted.
Enjoyed and unrestricted.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It is best to rest.
And let it accept the truth,
That comes with it.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Expect a shock and some loneliness.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Those experiencing this,
Are left to feel estranged!
Alienated,
From that...
Which one had thought,
Was sane!
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Enjoy it as a gift.
Unveiling an abundance of understanding.
Connecting a peace that can be reached.
With a wish to share and treat.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
From those taught they should live,
With lives accepted in self defeat!
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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What Appears May Not
What appears in front of you,
May not appear in front of me.
But you and I,
We are mentally connected!
Morally with a chemistry.
And spiritually through this...
We both can see!
A manipulation to have us both believe,
The process of a smokescreen works.
But the doer is the one deceived,
By such deeds of such shallow intentions...
A mindset limited breeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What For Them Was Isn't
What for them was isn't.
Like the taste of a lollipop,
That has faded from one's memory.
The activity is remembered.
But the flavor of it is gone.
And many are trying to hold onto it.
With a savor craved...
That brings them to the edge,
Of a tantrum fit!
Since what sits in their minds from yesterday,
Hasn't for them really gone away.
They want it returned!
They want it to stay!
They feel betrayed by an enslavement made!
What for them 'was'
ISN'T anymore.
Or will be again.
For anyone else to be explored!
Those heard droaning in a whining moan...
Are lost and locked in a consciousness,
Soon to be all their own.
What for them was isn't.
It's never coming back!
That's a fact they wished attacked.
But from a clock that has stopped its tick tocking...
The hands on it sit!
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
And there is no movement witnessed from this.
There is no movement witnessed from this.
No movement,
Is witnessed from this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Deliver Me
deliver me...
from the fury, the noise,
and the roar of the wheel...
deliver me...
from my own insecurities,
my unconscious greed,
and my self driven fears.
deliver me...
from my conceptual understanding,
my limited knowledge,
and my worship of knowledge.
deliver me...
from all anger and hatred
in whatever disguise...
deliver me...
from being driven by
mouth and stomach unchecked,
from what i think i need.
deliver me..
from my countless mistakes,
and the excuses i make!
deliver me...
from any kind of pride
that closes the open hand!
deliver me...
from any sense of self
that would seperate and divide.
deliver me...
from laziness and tiredness,
from bitterness and lonliness.
deliver me...
from all forms of apathy,
and the want to possess...
deliver me...
and bring me to realize myself!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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If Thirty Years Ago or Less
It would have been wonderful 'if' thirty years ago...
Or less.
We all had embraced reality as fact and not fiction.
And those who spoke truth were not hushed as mavericks.
And priorities then,
Focused our minds in unity as a mindset.
Instead of a decadence that has trashed.
With conflicts that clash.
To have now a witnessed division,
Depicting a separateness into classes!
So once enjoyed by the masses.
Perhaps none of the current madness experienced,
Would exist to inflict upon our consciousness.
IF...
Thirty years ago,
Or less.
The majority had confessed...
A self examined sadness,
Now professed in regret as is reflected!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nothing Left To Do To Be Done
No one voices their opinion,
Until an escalation of an ending begins.
And they make a collective noise then,
As if what is said should make sense and is heard.
Yet,
Disorderly conduct is all that is observed.
And those who came to warn them of misgivings...
Leave this scene without a mumbling word.
There is nothing left to say.
Nothing left to do to be done...
In a way that stayed obeyed!
So they lower their heads and pray.
Choosing to take their peace of mind,
And walk away while there is still time.
Some folks use their trivialities...
As if these are what is wished to find,
As a gold mine.
A self reflection had not visited their minds.
And that is the discovery of this sadness,
Had and has reached its full!
They choose to leave behind.
A higher consciousness to those promised...
Has been witnessed from them to be dismissed.
And ruined 'gifts' are left to sit,
And shared in disrespect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Plentiful Are Those With Blank Stares
Some personas develop at a certain age.
And do not progress.
Perhaps that is the reason,
Many adults still possess...
A noticeable immaturity.
In grown up skin and more like children,
With limited communication skills.
And devoid of accountability.
A seriousness does not in their minds sit.
And comprehension?
Forget it!
And when some folks reach,
The 'state' of a higher consciousness...
An 'aloneness' is what they get.
In depth conversations,
Are few and far between.
But plentiful are those with blank stares.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Addiction Free
Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.
Now I'm going to help you,
Get addiction free.
What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.
Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.
Now I'm going to help you,
Get addiction free.
What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.
What I mean and what was meant,
Are conditions that inspired past arguments.
But now I'm heated and there's no need,
For us to discuss anything any longer.
There's been too much blood shed.
And your empathy bleeding ways,
I've seen more than I wish to see.
What I know and expect from you,
Is more of the same game...
With nothing changed,
And too redundant to believe.
What you expect has been to my expense.
Both physical and spiritually.
My goodwill and nature you've taken.
And not a worthless dime,
Have you offer to give...
Or attempted to leave.
Don't come to me when you aint got nothing.
Begging for something from me.
I've given you too many shirts off my back.
Now I'm going to help you,
Get addiction free.
Like I will be,
When you get your ass away from me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ascension Ii
(Excerpt from a recent letter to a friend)
What is ascension;
Ascension to me means a move to higher consciousness in or out of the body. Those that want the status quo will be given the opportunity to remain in their immovable/unshakable mindset. Those that attain higher consciousness will have the choice to move on or stay to help enlighten those that are still asleep.
When referring to ascension regarding you, I meant that you have become wiser and better able t see that higher consciousness is your reward in this lifetime. Whether you choose to stay in your body or leave is optional.
I told Brandon this morning that our work during these difficult times is in our relationships. Reconciliation with family, friends and partnerships is what will move us toward enlightenment more quickly.
Trying to do battle with evil in the streets is counterproductive to our growth. Wickedness has a way of imploding and destroying itself.
Don't fret over Mother Earth, she's been taking care of herself for billions of years. When she's had enough she simply shakes off us fleas through cataclysm.
We need to clean up our own internal house ('Know Thyself') because this teaches us how to live in harmony with this planet and each other.
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Look How Limited And Dim That Point Of View Is
Racists can't help but be crazy.
Look how limited and dim that point of view is!
And to the extreme the protection of insecurities.
Racists can't help but be crazy.
Remember those cowboy and indian days.
And the cavalry lead by John Wayne...
Saved every studio making movies,
In old Hollywood.
And our sense of greatness,
Was raised to new heights.
We taught our picked enemies how to fight!
Look how limited and dim that point of view is!
Racists can't help but be crazy.
And in denial many wont admit it in public.
As if their mindset does not reflect their ideals.
It does.
Any human being can feel the insignifance of it!
Racists can't help but be crazy.
Look how limited and dim that point of view is!
And to the extreme the protection of insecurities.
Look how the punching of holes in a once floating boat,
Sinks it!
Racists can't help but be crazy.
And many just lay on the beach to tan.
Without knowing a thing about swimming!
Or which deeds to uphold in respect and demand.
Look how limited and dim that point of view is!
And I'm just observing it.
Not passing judgement on this at all.
I choose not to stall my forward pace.
I choose to widen my perceptions...
As I move my mind into a broader space.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Fly And Raise High Above A Mindset Fixed
Thick with wit,
In embedded ideals...
May appeal to those existing,
Within strict and limited points of view...
Of their lives as it is,
To subdue curiosities wishing to be unleashed.
But to fly and raise high above a mindset fixed,
One has to almost live as if a hermit.
And not permit redundancy,
To come and ferment what is retrieved...
And perceived as fresh meaning,
From each witnessed Sunrise that arrives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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North Capitol of Regions
We don't have to sit with chaos.
That is a choice,
Humanity does not have to make.
Pray, meditate!
Whatever it takes.
A breakdown of consciousness,
Is upon us now.
And this crisis done comes to uplift...
Those who recognize the introduction of it.
And the rising of a higher consciousness.
With Denver, Colorado...
Becoming the North Capitol of Regions,
For most of this.
As this shift begins to exist.
Leaving those unbelieving to perish!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bringing Us Merriment
A recess of a mindlessness progresses.
And a reset of a collected mindset begins.
Ending a rejection of a consciousness...
Coming as a gift,
Unwraped to lift us all...
During this holiday season,
Bringing us merriment...
No one will find to purchase,
At any shopping mall!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Voice Of Choice Is Their Own
When a game of catch up,
Believed can be played to be done...
Is initiated by some who think,
This battle against time can be won...
Is a matter of choice?
Their minds are stuck!
Listening to one voice.
And that voice of choice is their own.
And there is nothing in this world,
To convince people like this...
That their resistance in a stubbornness,
Has nothing to do with enemies or terrorists.
The ones witnessed being victimized,
Are they who perceive doing what they please...
Ultimately results to their benefit.
And there is a mindset of folks who think life is a joke!
With a listening done to one voice!
Not yours or mine,
By choice.
Just one voice and that is their own.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Temporary Guests
Many believe and perceive,
Their beliefs are to keep...
Durable as if in concrete.
To stay frozen...
And remain intact.
No matter where the times are.
With a progressing to leave,
Nonbelievers in their tracks kept back.
And with unsatisfying results,
Their limited visions are insults...
To those who have run out of patience,
And empathy for those stuck...
In ruts others have given up.
To moved on with an accepting of facts.
Or wish to do so.
Without a feeling of remorse,
To sever the ties from the ones...
Who can not seem to live their lives in stages,
On this Earth.
Or can not divorce themselves from craving,
A taste for an exclusive foreverness...
Selected for a few to feed and greed.
This,
Reality...
That has a beginning which advances to an end,
Many can not accept,
Themselves as temporary guests.
But dictators to infest a manifesting of regression.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
Seeking with a beating of their own regrets.
And, so hopeless are those with this mindset.
Not understanding they are here as temporary guests.
So hopeless are those with this mindset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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