It Is My Preference That Has Changed
You've adopted images created,
To become your beliefs.
Even love you claimed for me,
Was conditional.
And now the functions of your conditions,
Increasingly appear to be dysfunctional.
To make my 'nonacceptance'...
Tastefully more appealing than ever.
Well...
Let me say this to you,
I was never into champagne.
And you made it quite clear,
You would never drink beer.
And even if you did...
You couldn't afford me or it.
Not now.
It is my preference that has changed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
One's Beliefs
Beliefs aren't changed overnight,
Because of misdirection.
Beliefs are changed overnight,
When new ones are created.
Misdirection can be debated,
For reasons to entertain those who make changes.
But one's beliefs as they are...
Are only fed to keep them out of the way.
And kept faithfully attached,
For purposes to serve!
Not to discuss what are facts.
Beliefs aren't changed overnight,
Because of misdirection.
Beliefs are changed overnight,
When new ones are created.
Like one's knowledge of facts...
Depends on who is being pleased.
And for what reasons they've been directed,
To go first down on their knees,
Hoping to find their minds comforted.
And...
Beliefs,
As they are interpreted to be.
Aren't changed overnight,
Because of misdirection.
Beliefs are changed overnight,
When new ones are created.
To please and comfort the converted
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those' Images Made
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made.
People love to treasure those images made.
The ones flowered to sugar without a bitter taste.
Those images glammed up to spotlight,
On a public stage.
But behind the scenes indignities can be mean.
Yet...
People love to treasure those images made.
And their minds are affixed to them to defend...
Every blemish that is openly seen.
Since people who love their images made...
Have not been conditioned on reality to feast.
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made,
With an excusing of detrimental flaws and pain shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Riddled With Defects
If all cults weren't divisions,
Of existing religious beliefs...
Why are just a few,
Considered illegitimate?
When every one of them,
Is a creation of someone's imagination...
Sold to sell with a telling that is bought.
And a fighting done amongst themselves,
That has nothing to do with the presence of God...
Claimed to be in their lives.
As contradictions and hypocrisy thrives.
Do we exist as images of GOD?
Or...
Have we been created to immulate the image?
Either way,
The process seems to be riddled with defects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Short Mary did drink one hot beer
And thought her destruction was near.
She drank wine then thought
To read, write she God taught,
Then champagne and ne`er was her head clear.
quote by by Luis Estable
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A Marvellous Poem
A marvellous poem,
Written with great skill!
But where is my lover who left me last night?
For the imaginary style of my muse is highly rich for her;
But i will feel obliged to see her once again in my life.
Tastefully, full, fully, taste, tasteful, eat, east, at, as, tea, ate;
Butm why can't she call? ! !
Tastefully, state, sate, late, yes, say, lay, sea, seat, fall, falls;
But, who have seen her?
Tastefully, tall, stay, fat, fell, yell, tell, sell, set, sat, fast;
But, what made her leave?
Tastefully, feast, yeast, tease, ease, lease, let, last, feat, yet;
But i hope to see her once again in my life,
And like the muse of love in the land of beautiful flowers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Conditions Are Clear
the first time i met you
(and you said you like me)
i have already warned you
(that i am good for nothing
that you must not expect anything
for i am no good)
the conditions are clear
from the beginning when we proclaimed
that we are too in love
we promised we look for nothing and take nothing
except what we are and what we have
within the grasp of our hands
you changed, and i too changed
we begin to look for something beyond our grasps
we have become insatiable
and we want to hold the future that is still not there
we realize that this is the end
and so we make a new door with an exit sign
we left a smile and then we parted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unhappy With Their Normalities
They claim 'them' to be dysfunctional?
And the purpose for that is what?
To prove themselves less moronic?
Because those who they say are dysfunctional,
Seem to make less doctor appointments.
Place no visits to prisons.
Have the respect of their friends, family and children.
Work and donate time to volunteer.
And appear to be living that life that is wished.
'You know?
I think they are right!
Those who oppose to their way of life.
They are dysfunctional.
Compared to how life today is lived.
And what it is like to live it right!
But,
If 'they' are dysfunctional...
Why are so many unhappy with their normalities? '
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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Neither Are Around To Be Found
When it is discovered,
Not to be what it is.
Or what one has thought it to be...
Why is there a place for it sought?
Why is it accepted,
With a patience to have beliefs change.
And if beliefs can be changed with patience...
Why is it claimed neither are around to be found.
It is close to one's seeking for peace.
People kill to make it happen.
With a spending of millions to get it.
Only to go bankrupt financially and morally.
When peace is free!
And when something is free...
People automatically become suspicious of it.
But can be deceived they have enemies,
To ultimately pay the price...
For finding a place for it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The End Of The World
Go if you want to
I never tried to stop you
Know there's a reason
For all of this you're feeling
Low, it's not my call
You couldn't ever love me more
You couldn't love me more
You couldn't love...
Me - I don't show much
It's not that hard to hide you
See in a moment
I can't remember how to
Be all you wanted
I couldn't ever love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love...
You want me to cry and play my part
I want you to sigh and fall apart
We want this like everyone else
Stay if you want to
I always wait to hear you say
There's a last kiss
For all the times you run this way
It's not my fault
You couldn't ever love me more
You couldn't love me more
You couldn't love...
Love me more
Couldn't ever love me more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love
You want me to lie not break your heart
I want you to fly not stop and start
We want us like everything else
Maybe we didn't understand
Not just a boy and a girl
It's just the end of the
End of the world
Me - I don't say much
It's far too hard to make you
See in a moment
I still forget just how to
Be all you wanted
I couldn't ever love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
I couldn't love you more
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will You be My Love?
Don't know about your smile but
it is draining me to death as like raining with lightening.
First you spoken my heart was broken,
never had a feeling of walking on ceiling. will
make brittle clouds to rain even if you have a little pain,
will leave everything to make you believe, my love.
I wanna share my life, will you be my wife?
may I be too strong to be wrong but don't
go away making my heart sway to death, rest
the love I had be forever in my tomb. Minute
thought of you made all different, as I am now. The
difference you see is nothing but your preference on me.
While I watched others go before me you stayed
right behind me. How kind you be to make your mind! !
Your little smile will make me go a mile even If
I have to sail without you, but couldn't as I shouldn't.
Leave you? my heart will be as sleave even If I lose
the art of love to make a little into a cove.
May I be wrong with the slang but will wait long
just to sing a song to make you live long. Couldn't
make a mill though I had great skill as you had a kittle will.
It snows in morning but I will be mourning if you snow
my love even if it is for a little dove. Don't
go away due to others even how sober they are
But not I am, as I am in Love with you.
poem by P. Ashok Kumar
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My God Almighty
GOD made the universe, the world, and all
Of life as we know it to be
Then he created humanity.
He gave us the five senses for us to use
Some were born without, and some just plain abused.
He gave us a brain for us to be able to think
Then he gave us the two most important things
To make our lives complete
He gave us a heart and soul to use with this brain
And if we don’t use it- then it’s a crying shame.
I was born and raised a catholic
And I would ask the nuns: “where did GOD come from”
And they would always say: GOD IS, GOD ALWAYS WAS
GOD ALWAYS WILL BE -that was the answer given to me.
You need not see to believe- the blind were cured
The deaf could hear, the scared lost all their fears.
All these things were done through belief
It was something that the church did teach.
“I would walk into the mouth of death
And my life I would not regret.”
Put your faith in GOD and you will see
All of life s possibilities.
Such things as “paradolia” which most of us see.
When we see faces and images in the clouds
And we don’t know how.
Religious images being found in the skies
On some trees, and in the ground.
When your belief in CHRIST becomes so great
That you do not hesitate.
And your life has changed so drastically
That there is nothing else you see.
This is what my almighty GOD created
And my life has become belated.
poem by Louis Rams
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Texas has been hit especially hard this year by a continuing drought, threatening high winds and increasingly destructive range fires. Simply, these conditions have lead to extremely adverse conditions in the agriculture industry.
quote by Michael McCaul
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Croaking Toad And The Leopard Frog
The croaking toad and the leopard frog,
Were drinking beer on a hollow log.
And the croaking toad said, you're my best bud,
Man you can really hold your suds.
And the leopard frog replied in kind,
Another friend like you, I couldn't find.
You're my best friend when skies are grey,
You're by my side come what may.
I'd rather drink my beer with you,
Than catch blue bottles the whole day through.
Let's drink one more to the breaking dawn,
While we listen quietly to the crickets song.
But the croaking toad said I must go,
I'm very sleepy and the cock just crowed.
I'll see you tonight for a cold one or two,
I really love this black swamp brew.
And the leopard frog said I'll be here,
With my styrofoam ice chest sitting near.
Just bring some peanuts when you come round,
With beer they taste so good going down.
6/8/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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To Amend Or End Them
A definition initiated,
Of laws created to implement...
To later debate over their effectiveness,
Makes the following of them...
Questionable to appreciate,
The process of why they are made...
In the first place.
Especially if that process taken,
To have them undone with an undoing...
Has been determined to be unlawful to do.
And to who's benefit to anyone,
Does this prove?
If anyone can petition to have them changed,
With conditions to amend or end them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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He Is Asking What To Do When The Love Is Gone?
over a bottle of beer on top of his loquacious spirit
he is asking me: what to do when love is gone?
i throw back the question to him: what did you do when love was there?
and he says, he was in high spirits, he did all the thing he thought he cannot do
he grew flowers in the garden he painted the house anew
with white and blue and red and yellow
he laughed so well and claimed he was so happy
he loved so well and claimed he was in bliss
and so now that love is gone, i must tell him
just do the usual things when love was once there
there is nothing to lose, except that love that you have taken for granted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Preference For Distance
It is not that I am controlling.
I am self assured.
It is not that I 'think' I know everything.
I've been made aware of watching my own back.
And being accountable for my own actions.
I was extremely young,
When I was introduced to independence.
Even younger than that...
When I discovered I was emotionally alone.
You see...
I was raised not to be babied.
I don't recall being hugged or cuddled.
And the young women that I married...
Were younger still in their minds.
I guess during those days,
We all were trying hard to find roles to play.
Somewhere to feel comfortable enough to stay.
It is not that I am controlling.
I am self assured.
It is not that I 'think' I know everything.
I've been made aware of watching my own back.
And being accountable for my own actions.
My tolerance level sometimes is nonexistent.
And most times I realize I have a preference for distance.
I was not always this way.
It developed with a consciousness,
That became increasingly disgusted...
With the acceptance of deception.
Some may call this 'standoffish' behavior anti-social.
I call it surviving a dysfunctional past I care not to revisit.
And today...
That's all people want to do.
Discuss a past as if those times were the best times lived.
And I already know those are lies!
Why should I live to outdo those who choose to lie?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I think it is ironic that many of the leaders in technology were adopted.
I think it is ironic that many of the leaders in technology were adopted. Every one raves about how Steve Jobs put so much style into the apple; he turned his computers into an esthetic work of art, as well as into a fluid experience of joy; thus transforming both dimensions, making the out side experience as beautiful and wonderful as the inside, from a machine that was thoroughly repulsive to the vast majority prior to Steve Jobs. As people we wish the outside of our life was as beautiful, cooperative, exciting and rewarding as how we imagine it, as how we experience it on the inside as well as in moments from our depths.
We wish our inside could be understood by our loved ones. We wish to understand others seemingly incomprehensible emotional states. This is never more real than in infancy, as children, and later as teenagers. What Steve Jobs did was pure alchemy, on one level he was trying to bridge the gap from the lost part of himself, to make himself as attractive as possible to his miss attuned parents so that they would take an real interest in him. He attempted to decode what seemed to a child his parent's senseless emotional algorithm of being emotionally unavailable into something comprehensible. He also made something very distant assessable, complex codes to be memorized with great labor into a mouse and images, where one simply points and clicks.
He got the love, the admiration from many that he needed, he far out reach most, becoming an icon, but the child in him yearned and created the emotional attunement he never had, in both the inside and out side he had made himself through his products as appealing as possible, towards the end his exterior persona started to fade, and he could not maintain his brilliant performances, ironically for once he could experience the unconditional love on the out side and inside for who he was without having to physically dazzle and brilliantly perform. For once he would be loved for who he was, not for the dreams he could fulfill for others.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Strong Beer
“What do you think
The bravest drink
Under the sky?”
“Strong beer,” said I.
“There’s a place for everything,
Everything, anything,
There’s a place for everything
Where it ought to be:
For a chicken, the hen’s wing;
For poison, the bee’s sting;
For almond-blossom, Spring;
A beerhouse for me.”
“There’s a prize for every one
Every one, any one,
There’s a prize for every one,
Whoever he may be:
Crags for the mountaineer,
Flags for the Fusilier,
For English poets, beer!
Strong beer for me!”
“Tell us, now, how and when
We may find the bravest men?”
“A sure test, an easy test:
Those that drink beer are the best,
Brown beer strongly brewed,
English drink and English food.”
Oh, never choose as Gideon chose
By the cold well, but rather those
Who look on beer when it is brown,
Smack their lips and gulp it down.
Leave the lads who tamely drink
With Gideon by the water brink,
But search the benches of the Plough,
The Tun, the Sun, the Spotted Cow,
For jolly rascal lads who pray,
Pewter in hand, at close of day,
“Teach me to live that I may fear
The grave as little as my beer.”
poem by Robert Graves
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