Labelled As Disgruntled
Somehow...
It seems to me,
That pretense would not be the method needed...
To reverse the depth and magnitude,
Of this hole.
Truth has been avoided like the plague.
References to any kind of reality...
Immediately gets one labelled as disgruntled,
Or something to do with being disadvantaged.
Honesty for many is not accepted...period!
And still...
The connection between their selfishness and greed,
Does not connect...
To the reason why they are being left,
To moan and groan on their own.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
One's Selected Beliefs
Put into its right perspective...
An honesty that is and maintained.
This kind of perspective...
Isn't going to be accepted,
In a society basically fed...
On a diet of delusions.
Let's face it!
Honesty is not the thing,
People receive readily.
Nor regularly!
And for many,
Honesty is traumatic and fear producing.
Honesty chases truth away.
Truth offends.
Who doesn't know that?
Now,
With a little bit of sugar...
Some animation,
And an adult speaking in a child's voice...
Deceit, being discreet and kept secrets,
Are priorities kept and practiced.
And...
Will sustain one's selected beliefs,
Those chosen to become tradition...
For lifetimes of celebrated mystique.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until Truth Is Faced
Until truth is faced,
And all deceptions and fantasies...
Have been erased to be replaced by honesty,
Hatred will continue to mask those charading...
Beliefs they have been selected to lead,
And not follow doctrines that protect the interests...
Of all humanity.
The acquiring of greed has been the main ingredient,
To invade and take...
From others to leave them bleeding.
The acquiring of greed has been the main ingredient,
With a faking of created faith...
To impress those oppressed,
Whose lives lived...
Are determined by some,
To be worthless!
Until truth is faced,
And all deceptions and fantasies...
Have been erased to be replaced by honesty,
There will be no peace that decreases fighting.
There will be no peace that increases love.
Until truth is faced,
There will always be wars.
There will always be the taking to claim ownership.
And a quest to seek a victory,
As if a watching and listening God does not exist.
As if God has permitted them to destroy this gift of life,
Given.
'Living in enforced isolation,
Does not broaden once's comprehension...
Of an accepted reality.
And the ones protecting lies with continued alibis,
Find themselves eventually victimized.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Debilitating Limits Of Applied Suppression
Silly are the myths kept.
With all that is being revealed...
About truth.
And the deception...
To diminish the use of it.
Since this might stir a reason...
That pauses to connect 'cause',
Blinded by neglect that effects...
The advancement of a kept ignorance.
And having an absence of reality...
One is never introduced,
To witness its productive use.
And if a meeting should take place...
An enticement to express more respect,
That affects others would be accepted.
However...
One's mental growth that isn't controlled,
May become unleashed...
If truth should be released.
To benefit those freed...
From the debilitating limits of applied suppression,
Not even those oppressing it can look forward to escape.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Glitz, Glimmer and Rhinestone
For some reason,
Glitz, glimmer and rhinestone...
Seem to go together.
Like movies and TV.
And some people overheard in conversation.
If someone is in the need of costuming,
To enhance a 'theme'...
Or dress up to play 'make believe',
One would think people generally leave the 'real' stuff
Behind...
With an acknowledgement in their minds,
There is a time and a place that seperates fact...
From fiction.
And making long lasting impressions,
Requires one to be in touch with a bit of honesty.
At least the kind of honesty that is removed from gloss.
Unless...
Everyone has been in costume.
And those accustomed to being fake...
Take for granted,
That everything connected to life...
As they know life to be,
Has always been one they fantasized.
And lieing to oneself is accepted.
Since going through the motions is all one knows.
Isn't fake the new reality,
Today.
Even when the cameras are 'on'.
To catch what it is,
Being what it is!
Whatever 'What-it-is'...
Is!
And folks are being paid to...
Downgrade!
THAT is 'reality' for far too many people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cropped From a Harvest
I have come to admire,
Those labelled as insane.
At least they are not the ones considered 'normal'.
And one day they've lost their mind and brains.
Like those who commit horrific and horrendous crimes.
The kind known and respected,
To represent those accepted as being just fine.
Before their backgrounds are studied in prime time.
Those who seem to have been called crazed...
Have also been pioneers in their 'day'.
And they are the ones who have paved the way...
To allow the laziness of madness,
To become so commonly displayed....
Today.
Without one hint of this being connected to the status quo.
Or the reason for its accepted hidden sickness,
Growing as if cropped from a harvest to be solicited.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Egos Addicted
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.
And those elected to protect their 'treats',
Find they've become accountable...
To ease a reality upon these minds.
Teasing them with beliefs of victory!
When deceit and defeat...
Has surrounded them for sometime!
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!
How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Rainbow connection
The Rainbow Connection helped me find my way
The Rainbow Connection is the best may I say.
The Rainbow Connection is where dreams come true.
In this connection friends are true.
The Rainbow Connection, is where Fantasy becomes reality
And reality becomes actuality
Anyone can find the rainbow connection. You just have to believe and forget what you know about reality.
poem by Shauntae Taylor
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Let Them Groan In a Free Moan Zone
Let them groan in a free moan zone to do it!
Disputing this with resistance...
Will only satisfy their cries and sighs.
They seek to blame another,
For their blunders initiated undercover.
And wish to dump this as their custom.
As has been done to keep folks stunned.
Let them groan in a free moan zone!
If you don't,
They'll see to it...
This will not be done alone.
Pamper them like the children they are.
The children who play and inflict their own scars.
Let them bleed without a rescue heeding.
And destroy themselves by their own annoyance...
With the sight of their own imperfections seething.
Perhaps then they will get the point!
Their own madness created has left them disjointed!
And leave them alone...
In a free moan zone to do it.
If you don't,
The haunting they'll pursue will last forever.
With 'someone' to depict as their enemy!
And 'this' has been their expertise.
Leave them alone...
In their own free moan zone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Undoubtedly there are, in connection with each of these things, cases of fraud, swindling, and other financial crimes; that is to say, the greed and selfishness of men are perpetual.
quote by William Graham Sumner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Those Young and Full Of Innocence
To those young and full of innocence...
Where are you?
Have you kept your youthfulness,
Unblemished?
Can I believe you are still naïve...
Living a life with moralistic needs?
Have you been tainted by an overwhelming theft,
That has left you with a need to feed greed?
And then in pretense you attempt to hide,
Your misdeeds!
I pray and wish...
A few have not dismissed honesty.
To those young and full of innocence...
Where are you?
There are a few of us around,
Who have not lost wholesomeness to disrespect.
There are still some of us,
Who have hope and faith we have kept.
And hopefully there are more,
Who are wishing you do not ignore...
Your pride and dignity.
Without you...
There are none to produce more.
And that would be pathetic!
Adding to what is now,
An epidemic of apatheticness.
That has already arrested...
And molested our seeds.
With indignities successfully over decades,
Planted!
To those young and full of innocence...
Where are you?
Have you kept your youthfulness,
Unblemished?
Can I believe you are still naïve...
Living a life with moralistic needs?
Have you been tainted by an overwhelming theft,
That has left you with a need to feed greed?
I pray and wish...
A few have not dismissed honesty.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Too Late to Compensate For It
Vanity suffers missed opportunities.
It can be compared to one's preference to plastic.
When crystal is available!
But being aware of it may not be known.
A pretense of it is shown.
Even children rarely pay attention to substitutes.
And they rebel the enforcement of it.
Once a truth is nibbled...
More is sought.
The information may be there.
But the presence of it...
Seems to be delivered in uncertainty.
And efforts to shove something of value,
Down folks' throats...
Provokes public scenes.
A falseness is immediately depicted.
And a control is lost!
Ignorance is not bliss.
That rumor should have never been allowed to spread.
When unattended discipline is blown out of proportion...
Expect chaos.
It has already been baited to arrive.
But many in denial are dieting on delusion.
Believing a reality can be sweetened to a preferred taste.
Research occurs.
And statistics are gathered.
To be vain represents a 'missingness' of something.
If something out of the ordinary is viewed as unusual...
And this screams out for help but goes ignored?
With an intention that escalates?
Like a selfishness that stares in one's face?
And more of it goes out of its way to be fed?
With it seen everywhere as a valued standard?
Trouble is not too far behind.
In fact for many it has already climbed over the fence.
Attacking those defenseless.
With hopes to protect themselves,
With the same tired excuses!
And self examinations become offensive.
And from the core of its beginning...
Truth and the reality of it,
Has been so misunderstood,
For what it really is.
And too late to compensate for it!
Or debate it to further irritate those irate.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Prefer To Keep It Frozen
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
Unfortunately...
Not everyone welcomes this gift to receive.
With a keeping it under wraps.
To pack away in one's attic.
Or...
Stored in one's basement.
To leave it frozen in a freezer,
With a thawing no one will ever see at all.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.
But,
Left corrupted...
A shocking honesty can awe.
To be abducted.
Shocking honesty can awe.
With none conducted.
A shocking honesty can awe.
And...
Leaving it to freeze,
Never to thaw.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Best Place For Truth
“Wake up Jane, got something to tell you,
I have ceased to love you”.
“Oh, I knew it all along”, she said,
“but didn’t let you know I knew! ”
“I knew you were soon done with me,
but made it up by a pretense of love,
and it must have been so painful for you”.
“Why, Jane? Why didn’t you tell me? ”
“cause sometimes the best place for truth
is in the heart, that’s why! ”
“what’s the truth you guarded in your heart? ”
“it matters little to you, my selfishness”
“what selfishness? ”, I cried,
“loving you knowing it would not come back! ”
I woke up from the dream and knew….
I couldn’t let it out of my heart!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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High On Ignorance
No,
You can not call them idiots.
To them,
That is not offensive enough.
Truth does not embarrass them at all.
No matter if it is written on walls,
Or hanging tall on billboards!
It will not penetrate,
Through all that other smoke screening stuff.
It is easier for them,
To have others decorate their minds with whims.
Then to have it brutally honest.
Honesty for them is worse than committing sins.
Their minds are so gone!
No longer is there light in them to dim.
And the prognosis is not favorable.
If nothing today has been followed or understood...
What are the prospects for comprehension to begin?
They are killing 'enemies' on their own homelands.
And continue to kill themselves from within!
No,
You can not call them idiots.
To them,
That is not offensive enough.
Truth does not embarrass them at all.
No matter if it is written on walls,
Or hanging tall on billboards!
It will not penetrate,
Through all that other smoke screening stuff.
There might be one last hope!
Legalize the drugs.
This will give them opportunities to cope!
Since those who see them high on ignorance,
Notice truth and reality...
Has never in their lives been accepted.
As a purpose or means for their focus!
And those who know this,
Have been labelled fools who are useless jokes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reality For What It Is
You want a job?
Wake up to face reality for what it is!
There are plenty positions still available.
And once you have accepted,
To become trained successfully...
Volunteer for the overtime.
There will be plenty of it.
Since many will find it too stressful,
To have their pre-occupied minds...
Already set on entitlements.
And two week vacations.
Without working to earn their first cent.
You want a job?
Wake up to face reality for what it is!
There are plenty positions still available.
And that's why those who have outsourced the truth,
Hope the ones who refuse to awaken...
Keep their delusions pursued.
You want a job?
How about ridding your mind of fantasies?
And forgetting about that feast that fed your greed.
That same greed those who once employed but now can not,
To find themselves overseas to receive expected profits to pocket.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Role Play Dreams
We've been fogged by ambiguity.
And role play dreams.
It,
Had been never my wish...
To leave you.
Maybe to lead and guide.
As if to mentor.
It,
Was something done,
We both needed.
That's what I,
In my selfishness believed.
Perhaps it was me,
Who sought compassion.
On a schedule.
And you...
Sought that too!
Too much.
As if to greed.
You were someone I could easily love.
Endlessly.
And maybe you felt squeezed.
Or sought you thought to please...
A constant feeding of my needs.
And fresh air was not there enough...
For you to freely breathe.
Perhaps it was me,
Who sought compassion.
On a schedule.
And you...
Sought that too!
Too much.
As if to greed.
But you received little of that from me.
And too late it is for me to see.
We've been fogged by ambiguity.
And role play dreams.
It,
Had been never my wish...
To leave you.
Maybe to lead and guide.
As if to mentor.
It,
Was something done,
We both needed.
That's what I,
In my selfishness believed.
And it that could have been,
Has diminished.
With me,
Selfishly...
Thinking of myself as the center,
Ending your dreams with me...
Foolishly finishing to end it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Is Which
> To beware of the truth.
> Is truth...it, self?
> So, what is truth?
>
> Is truth, true love?
> Or...just a reality?
> To be a man...is that truth?
>
> A man...is reality.
> A woman...is reality.
> To be woman...is that truth?
>
> To have more then one partner
> Is a reality of the world.
>
> Which this world agrees.
> Truth is; in my point of view
> Is what one claims to be truth.
>
> But, the truth is whatever you
> Are doing as I speak.
> A woman is good for the soul.
>
> That truth is very bold.
> A man lives for his manhood
> So I am told.
>
> Is it truth or reality?
> Respect is in the middle of the spectrum.
> Male vs. Female
>
>
> That is truth.
> Man being woman
> A reality.
>
> Woman being man...
> She tries.
> Respect cover both the unreal and the wise.
>
> Truth or reality...we never really
> Give it much thought.
> Maybe it was the way we are taught.
>
> Truth or reality...
> Which is Which?
>
>
> whisperkwane
>
> [email protected]
>
>
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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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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Speaking Greek
If didn't make sense to you
Just maybe it wasn't suppose to.
The man and mouse speak.
It's of a language thought to be of Greek.
So foreign are the mouth movements.
With micro expressions that tell you nothing.
With honesty how can you condemn?
A famine upon the eyes.
With a desire for something with a little more taste.
Poor little man, poor little mouse, such a wasted life.
You are but of the same class.
Separated from everyone by a social status and stature.
You hatch ideas all your own, but they will never be accepted because they will never understand.
They mark you with a label and a branding.
You just don't fit the accepted standard.
So you sit upon the shelf like an unwanted and avoided toy.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Through The Panes of Stained Glass
With reality as clear,
As seeing through gleaming clean glass...
Why is it that 'stained' windows installed,
Appear to be assorted with various colors?
And those colors shine on hypocrites stalled,
Deliberately in prayer to be freed of deceit.
The kind that feeds a greed,
For more selfish needing.
And why can't those fed selfish deeds,
Not see truth?
A truth pursued but not received,
Upon delivery from that One which creates...
'Believability'.
To have its 'reason' falsified.
'No one can see through the panes of stained glass! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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