It Is An Inclusive Experience
The best way to inform those uniformed...
Is not to conform to an accepted normalcy.
In time there will be no need to debate,
Those feelings perceived about reality.
Truth brings along with it,
An interpretation needing few to describe its presence.
Somehow it is felt...
Without a single word spoken.
Nor is it known to dispense...
Displays of envy given with disdain.
It is an inclusive experience without question.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That's 'Almost' Funny
If one does anything perceived,
That gets an attention one deserves...
There will be envy expressed.
Or a sarcasm heard.
If one looks a certain way,
That hints of beauty...
Or an accepted physical presence,
There will be envy shown.
Or a 'player' hating comment thrown.
Forget about feelings of emotions felt.
Forget about struggles one is dealed and dealt.
Forget about living the process of life itself.
If it was about looks and what it took to survive...
Very few who victimize would not be around,
Expressing envy, jealousy...
Or rolling their nonproductive eyes.
Folks who provoke and poke their jokes,
Do more lieing than trying to invoke good strokes.
'That's some 'light' stuff!
Is your poetry on a diet? '
That's 'almost' funny.
It must be the season of the Easter Bunny?
I rate that one 'ha' with two hees.
Followed with a 'mind-your-business'.
Leave!
On a serious note...
You irritate me.
ANYWAY...
If one does anything perceived,
That gets an attention one deserves...
There will be envy expressed.
Or a sarcasm heard.
If one looks a certain way,
That hints of beauty...
Or an accepted physical presence,
There will be envy shown.
Or a 'player' hating comment thrown.
'To an 'ego' known.
Overblown.'
You have a lot of time to do absolutely 'nothing'.
'And with a 'nothingness' done,
You have achieved 'some' success.'
Buzz off!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth 'Is' As Oxygen Is to Life
People believe the value of truth,
Depends on interpretation.
They are absent of clues...
That truth is not a product of a whim.
It is something that sits within one's spirit.
And can be 'seen'!
Truth 'is' as oxygen is to life.
If something is tainted about it...
It doesn't have to be describe,
To know it is their existing.
It is felt.
It is known.
Like a blade of grass created.
Connecting to an accepted nature
That has embraced us.
That's how truth is!
To all who know it.
For those who don't...
Always have an excuse to hide behind!
As if steel and concrete will prevent truth
From being known!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth Is Making Its Presence Felt
Truth is making its presence felt.
And there are so many,
Who have never dealt with it before.
Believing it to be destructible.
Like a steel fence built.
Or a wall to dvide,
Contructed of concrete.
Truth is as powerful as the air supplied,
One needs to breathe.
And born to ignore it...
Does not ceases its existence!
Truth is making its presence felt.
Much like Mother Nature has...
To those who have a concept,
That the Earth upon all leech...
Is not a living, thinking being.
And how this goes misunderstood...
Is beginning to awaken those asleep!
Truth...
Is making its presence felt.
And an acceptance of it,
Has not been left to debate...
For other choices to make.
Whether the message or the messenger,
Is disliked...
Will not soften the bite of truth.
Be prepared to swallow it!
Or be eatened up and gobbled!
Truth...
Not more variety of delusions,
Is making its presence felt!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Question Remains
When vile necessities
And confidence are shaken,
A compromise is forsaken
In the best of breeds...
How did I become this?
For you, there is no answer.
It is something I have sought
Until I found peace...
Let no interference
Persuade me against my wish,
The alibi-that exists,
Need not have a name...
Neither I should
Weigh too much on mine
For if I were a word,
I might come out and die...
Life, like a spoken word,
Will sometime perishes,
Spoken word transforming
Like a wish-never preserved...
Were I to discard
All vanities for a time
To know the depth of being
From the lower side? ...
Was it important
To experience the loss
Of something which has value
Sacrificed too fast?
The question still remains! ...
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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That's What Happens When Truth Is Spoken
Truth hurts!
That's why the presence of it,
Is scandalized, falsified, denied and fantasized.
Criticized and spat upon and treated like crap!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
Of course I am 'still' talking about truth.
And that's the tragedy of it!
Even when it is mentioned people want to stop it.
They want to disrupt it with a show of disrespect.
To prove they can throw it indignities.
And to leave it as if that is accepted.
Well...
I say NO to that!
It is NOT accepted!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
You aren't paying me any attention are you?
That's what happens when truth is spoken!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Spite of Opposition
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
In spite of oppostion,
Of those who say he lacks experience.
Although he shows qualities,
They themselves have not yet shown.
He is a man of color...
And that they regret.
They rather show images of those of color...
As children needing diapers changed,
Because they are still 'wet'!
And they want this known.
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
And he represents a time...
In which people in the right minds,
Seek an updated image...
Of what others rather see,
Enforcibly diminished!
But a darkness lifts...
To allow those to see,
Truth in reality they can believe.
In spite of opposition...
Conflicts existing,
Seem pointless to keep inflicting.
And the greed of it...
Reveals the minds of those sick,
Who insist to feast upon their wickedness to feed.
And in spite of opposition,
He proves he is the best choice to select...
And to lead.
Whatever he lacks...
He still over his opposition succeeds.
Leaving people to question:
'If he lacks experience...
Why have the people 'experienced' the mess,
His opposition who say they are more qualified...
Digress with such mess and wish for more of it to leave! ? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not One To Encourage A Response, However...
People in hiding,
With beliefs their unspoken intentions...
'Should' be understood.
Are finding themselves,
Alone with their misguided perceptions.
And there is just too much evidence,
That immaturity accepted to nourish...
Flourishes the environment,
With the presence of too many latrent fools...
Doing the best they can to escape,
From the accountability of their actions.
And people blame the children,
For the boisterous disrespect and ignorance.
I am not one to encourage a response,
However...
Can the minds of today,
Address the depth of a shallowness expressed.
And accept this as a reflection of themselves...
As if to take pride in the reality of their social dysfunctions.
And pretend this existence is clear and free of normalcy.
I am not one to encourage a response,
However...
Hasn't it been time that those delusional find,
Truth in themselves...
As a gift and nothing one has to fear!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth and Reality (Opinion)
Daily at the end of my "anusthaanam"-(spiritual ritual) ", I make a strong, fervent and sincere prayer to the Divinity that intellectuals and scholars in the world should be fearless and speak the truth without any inhibitions. This has been the tradition of our ancestors and speaking truth is essential for the benefit of the society and the society will be able to know the actualities and act on them.
Normally the rulers do not like the truth to be known. Also leaders of ideologies, religions, their supporters and the like also do not like the truth to be known to the ordinary people. The writers are normally and should be fearless such that the ills and evils in the society are exposed and remedial measures are taken. But what is truth?
Truth is what it is or as it is irrespective of perceptions of the individuals. Reality is what we see of truth; how much we see of truth. Reality is always dictated by our mental make-up, likes, dislikes, limitations in our ability and willingness to see, view, comprehend and accept the truth. Reality is individual's perception of the truth. Truth, most of the times, is only perceived and rarely understood or experienced. Thus reality is limited truth. Reality is either inability to be truthful or inability and limitations of the individual to see the truth unbiased. Also truth corresponds to the individual, about himself, his Self and the reality corresponds to the objective world within and without the body of the individual.
Real situations are compromised states of existence in the attempt of pursuit of the truth. We all talk about truth limited by our perception and not the truth most of the times. We have compulsions inbuilt, acquired or imagined not to accept the truth and allow truth to be spoken or spread through us. But truth is a flowing river. It may flood us but it never dries up. On the other the reality is like a stagnated lake. Our fear of repercussions taking place if we speak, accept or propagate truth, make us real and not truthful. We prefer peaceful and calm life. We call that realistic approach and adjust and compromise.
Thus, most of the times, we are not truthful. We are all limited and confined to our perceptions of truth. Truth is best revealed when understood or experienced. But we rarely get such insight. All our knowledge and information is hearsay through books, newspapers, magazines, radio and TV news channels, web sites etc, . We are all aware that these books and news items are filtered through the editors and owners of these media. Thus the perceptions of these responsible and financing individuals decide the truth content in the item. We pick up these as truth and argue or form our own perceptions. Sometimes the editorial policy of the editors or owners of these media do not allow truth as it is to reach us when they find it objectionable in that form. Thus truth is never completely known or allowed to be known and hence not completely comprehended. The fears, imaginations, illusions shape our perceptions and our comprehension of the truth. Many times it appears that no absolute truth exists or known, perceived or understood and experienced. Just as feelings and perceptions of good and bad and other qualities, truth is also relative as "truth to me", "truth to him", "truth to you", "truth to them" and a truth accepted by all is not possible and available to be expressed, accepted or spread and we all mistake our perceptions of truth as truth without understanding or experiencing the truth. But truth is like fire. It can not be hidden or held in hand.
the palm. Truth sneaks through our cautions and suppression and declares itself.
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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If Truth Is Indeed A Seeking
Whose game is this played,
That increasingly slips away...
From a sacred interest held and portrayed,
As representing the mainstay...
Of an accepted truth,
Today?
Today?
Yet another 'truth' is introduced to debate.
To further dilute those faithful to a meaning.
Was Jesus married and to whom?
And why now is this important,
To those who say they can interpret...
What has been written in a Coptic way?
A language of Afro-Asiatic descendants,
Who are primarily Egyptian and rarely mentioned.
And how many facets are there to 'Christianity' anyway?
With a validating done if a Coptic belief,
Is a version that disputes a more 'acknowledged' relief...
That those Biblical scholars who follow King James,
Have for centuries perceived as being concrete.
Whose game is this played,
That increasingly slips away...
From a sacred interest held and portrayed,
As representing the mainstay...
Of an accepted truth,
Today?
If truth is indeed a seeking,
With a reality that is sought!
And...
Would this invalidate,
Any 'Holy' war that is fought?
To make everyone a hypocrite...
Mentally distraught!
Committed to 'religiously' misfit beliefs.
And incapable of minding our own 'dysfunctional' business.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love Is A Little Word
Love is a little word,
but it fills the world with happiness
when it is spoken from the heart.
It coveys a feeling of joy
of being close to someone.
Sometimes it is not spoken
in audible words,
but in gestures between two
who have so much feelings for one another.
It is never about
how small the word,
but the feelings it conveys.
4 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Anger
It’s a source of revenge,
Master of destruction,
It brings separation,
Encourage discrimination,
The source of pain,
Brings slavery,
Yeah, mental slavery.
Emotion is the enemy of facts,
Feelings is the darkness of reality,
Emotions, feelings are the wrong way of decision,
Let Anger not be the source of decision making,
Focus on the truth, reality and facts.
poem by Dickson Mseti
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To Heal From A Slow Mending To Grow
If something once strongly felt,
Is no longer there...
Existing to feel naturally,
Even the presence of a hypnotist...
Masquerading as a magician,
Will not be able to restore those natural feelings.
Not to be felt when back at a time remembered,
Those feelings from one's heart were freely given.
When those feelings felt begin to leave,
They do not return to make a reappearance.
Anyone who has experienced this emotionally...
To heal from a slow mending to grow,
Up...
To forgive and forget,
Knows....
Once something is felt to leave, it goes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Romancing Fantasies
What would you call it,
If these activities...
Are not deception as perceived.
'It is a mere re-interpretation,
Of a reality that had never existed.
That's all.
There is no need,
To get all puffed out of shape about it.
I am surprised you are not aware,
This is a convenience that has taken place...
All the time.
Where have you been?
Romancing fantasies? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those of Actions and Less Words
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
However...
Those of actions and less words,
Impress with images lasting.
And it is the consistency of their thoughts and deeds...
That keeps one in someone's mind,
As one that can be believed without doubt or question.
Too many people today express in public flair,
How deep their loyalty for another is...
And so profess what is kept,
But not truthfully there to be addressed.
With confessions made to others,
As if this passes a test.
While it is the things done they do...
That disproves a conviction spoken.
And not in their hearts to followed through.
Although dramatized displays are created,
To show how someone by another,
Has been made to become upset.
This is straight from a 101 Beginner's Acting Manual.
And those on the receiving end,
Are not tricked to be fooled by deceptions that begin.
Feelings they have are invested too!
And these feelings for them are protected to defend.
Not tossed about in meaningless conversations.
Conversations to impress but without a depth connected.
Anyone can make comments,
About feelings meant.
Feelings claimed to have!
But kept in one's mind,
Where that time has been spent!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It is Inevitable
Accepted or not.
Deceived or manipulated,
To replace it with dishonesty.
Truth.
When it is revealed,
Can no longer be concealed.
Or interpreted for something it is not.
And regretting not to have embraced it,
When that opportunity comes.
To have it faced,
Does not change the integrity of those
Who have known and lived the truth.
When opposition displays its evil.
Although,
Those who have based their lives.
On lies told as they lived,
Are the ones haunted by their misdeeds.
Observed as seen.
Leaving truth shown to be spoken and known,
Eventually winning all battles!
It is inevitable that an evil is chased away.
Once the masquerading of it has been exposed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Efforts to Enlighten These Charity Cases
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
And still there are those,
Who make daily attempts...
In the defense of their perceptions.
With a stubborn-ness to enforce them,
On what has been accepted as reality.
Life is made a lot easier,
If one is on a side of it that dictates...
A reality that nature brings.
And we spend some time,
In the comprehension of it.
But many have no connection to life,
On that level.
Many have not been blessed,
To be challenge or tested to fail.
Or to have the experience,
Of being alone with grief.
And healing from its affects.
But many have no connection to life!
Not on that level.
And those who do...
Seem to be required to have more patience.
As if sacrificing throughout one's life,
Is not enough of a donation made...
In the support already given,
With continuous strenuous efforts...
To enlighten these charity cases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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Facts Can Be What Whoever Says They Are
If from inception,
There had been no truth.
And from this a reality was based.
Any claims of fraudulence,
Can be denied.
Since prior to inception...
Truth was not a consideration.
And reality was what it was wished to be!
As far as interpretation of facts goes.
And facts can be what whoever says they are.
But when?
And in who's time...
Do they begin to be used for accountability purposes.
If truths are to be held self evident...
When is the constitutionality of consciousness applied?
If applied and how is that determined?
Note:
The word 'self evident' introduced into the English language
as an adjative in 1671.
Definition: 'evident' without proof or reasoning.
Evident: Clear to one's vision or understanding.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Can Prevail With Endurance
The most upsetting thing,
That displeases many people...
About reality,
Is its overwhelming ability...
To remain as it is.
No matter who attempts,
To depict it as something else...
Reality has its own set of standards.
As those who are shallow,
Eventually discover.
And rarely is it needing explanation.
It makes itself known!
Proving it can prevail with endurance,
Through any and every...
Conceiveable interpretation of fact.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sugar Coating The Wholesomeness Of It
How can anyone look at a tree...
And not notice the leaves on it?
It's done!
How can someone not acknowledge,
A greeting said to them heard?
It's done.
Or the disrespect spoken from the lips of children.
And a total breakdown of discipline!
That too is done!
Truth is there.
Available and free.
Perhaps the reason for it not being sought as much...
Or has the popularity that fantasy and delusion flaunts,
Is its attachment and close association with reality!
And many people use that as an excuse not to deal with it!
And today...
Facing truth and reality,
Is more difficult for many...
Than it is to get a child to eat vegetables.
Without sugar coating the wholesomeness of it!
Making it an accepted game to play.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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