Lives Isolated and Divided
Is anything ever stolen...
One's own property?
To declare and sell...
In a written exchange,
Documented and agreed.
Does someone already sitting,
On land when others come.
Have a say at all to what happens...
When visitors make a home,
And overstay their welcome.
Can one group say which rights belong to them?
With an exclusiveness...
To pick, choose and dismiss.
And use lies and deceit,
To change the history of it!
How is authority given...
To those who claim they are great?
When time is spent in defaming slander...
To berate those they historically hate!
And why do they say they dislike Europeans?
When they are all descendents of them.
Isn't their religious leader...
Beloved and lives in the Vatican?
Perhaps they wish to keep their 'divisions' blissed.
With distorted visions...
That a deluded diversed people,
Can live their lives divided and in isolation...
And actually thrive in an existence like this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Why Have You Not Written Anything About the Jews?
Why have you not written anything about the Jews?
'Nothing about them motivates me to do so.'
They may regard that as anti-semitic.
'Have I expressed any hostilities? '
No!
'Any sense of discrimination? '
No!
'Have I expressed anything against them...
As a religious, ethnic or racial group? '
No!
Not at all.
Well...
They may regard that as anti-semitic.
Your nonchalance about their existence.
'Oh, please!
As a black man,
There is enough in my history for me to cry 'wolf'.
And use that as a means to scream 'discrimination'.
And they are good depicting themselves as victims,
Without the assistance of my input!
With the use of the media,
They have marketed their sufferings very well.
And everyone knows the black 'man' is the most hated,
On this planet.
And you don't think those comments,
Would be regarded as anti-semitic?
'I 'think' you are insisting an anti-semiticness.
For reasons to satisfy a campaign you'd like to address.
When everywhere there is a genocide affecting the lives,
Of black folks who have been denied their rights.
Those who have chosen to keep their eyes open,
Can see that.
With resources stolen from their lands...
To benefit the lives of those who choose
To call themselves white.
Or those who choose to comfortably pass.
So,
I am in no mood to be anti-semitic.
Nor to be baited to debate in ignorance with you.'
Humanity is being destroyed by those insecure.
And you have no comments about that?
'Is this how you go about initiating conflict? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Indepth Information and Eye Contact
Oh, I have a lot to say.
Especially to those who have betrayed,
The trust of others.
And they continue to charade,
In the face of those they have deceived...
With misdeeds.
Oh, I have a lot to say.
Oh, I have a lot to say.
To those who sit with puckered lips.
With silent voices to offer...
When their opinions could change,
The lives they daily complain...
To unconcerned others about.
Instead of taking the opportunity,
To open their mouths.
Especially around those,
Who have the authority to make changes.
Don't bring your dirt to me.
Then pick up the phone to tell anyone,
Why you believe my actions will not please!
As you slander, character assassinate...
And backstab me!
Oh, I have a lot to say!
Yes,
I have a lot to say.
After witnessing a people let their lives decay.
After watching these same people,
Have things go their way to have the nerve to say...
How others who have dedicated their lives to do things right,
And unafraid.
Are deserving to be despised by those who tell lies?
I don't think so!
Oh, I have a lot to say!
AND...
This wont be done behind anyone's back.
I want them to feel my breath.
As I express my desire to request and get,
From them...
Indepth information and eye contact!
With facts I am fed until my satisfaction arrives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fed Up!
Change?
Less of that,
Will be left in your pocket!
The 'spiritual deities'
Are fed up!
They have come
To prove to all...
No longer are they sitting in wait,
For those to partake
In salivating destructive greed.
Change has come to us,
Indeed!
And for those contemplating,
A celebration to occur.
A curbing of enthusiasm,
Is now being stirred.
Divisional religious beliefs?
These 'deities' aren't sitting with wings...
Humming on clouds and patting their feet!
This 'organism' we call Earth,
Will be heard...
When He of the She of It finally speaks!
And we are here to witness a major transformation.
Disturbing with cracks...
To dismiss the myths of bogus foundations!
And fake destinies created,
For purposes to deceive!
Fed up 'They' are!
And on the move to prove...
They are not in debate or seeking advice.
From a group of 'louse'...
An insecting family of lice!
'They' have created this planet that breathes!
Correcting this misunderstanding will be done.
Without scriptures to read,
To free 'itself' of further disease!
Whether or not humanity lives or dies...
Those 'deities' controlling us,
Are certainly going to thrive and survive!
Fed up!
'They' are.
With our pretentions, pettiness...
Disrespect and neglecting ways!
With a disregard for our lives 'They' made.
And excuses to abuse this 'home' we nest,
Infesting it with destruction...
And selfish alibis!
Fed up!
'They' are.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wouldn't It Be Great
Wouldn't it be great,
To speculate with accuracy...
How someone else should be,
And they were exactly...
How we perceived them.
And we were rumor mill free.
Wouldn't it be great?
Wouldn't it be great,
To have a flavor to taste?
And that flavored tasted,
Was exactly the one craved.
How about this one?
Would it be great,
If those were created...
For the deeds they did.
And have those who knew it,
Not try to throw someone under a bus.
Wouldn't it be great,
If people awakened to appreciate others?
Instead of defaming the slander.
Or pick their names to cuss.
Wouldn't it be great if it 'was' about an 'us'...
And not about distrust, deceit,
Or the feeding of selfish greed.
Wouldn't it be greed if we did not believe,
We were entitled with these as needs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hate And Dislike
Hate and dislike are not the same thing between them the difference is great
We well may not like everybody but our dislike should not give way to hate
For hatred leads people to bad crimes since hatred as a feeling is very intense
The feeling of hatred is noxious and is poison to common sense.
Some commit murder due to hatred and than murder there is no worse a crime
Their hatred has landed them in prison for to serve a lengthy span of jail time
Their life it is ruined forever and darkness envelopes their soul
Suppose that is what's bound to happen when hatred is out of control.
Hate and dislike are two different creatures and though dislike to hatred can grow
Hate in it has got far more venom those who hate mercy will not show
Whilst those who dislike you may not harm you at least not in a physical way
And if you asked me to choose between them I would choose dislike any day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cheering What Has Been Defeated
Why are the people in the streets,
Cheering?
'They are cheering the news,
Recently learned...
That what they wanted to achieve,
Has been defeated! '
They are cheering that what they wanted,
Has been defeated?
'Yes!
And even though they have great admiration,
For their new leader...
And he has been an advocate for their cause,
He represents the government.
And they have been very vocal,
About having the government out of their lives.'
But...
What aspect of their lives,
Has not been controlled by the government?
'That's besides the point.
They have come to exercise their First Amendment Rights.'
Yeah...
But,
Aren't all of those 'amendments' government controlled?
And initiated?
'Hey...
What can I say?
I'm an outsider looking in just like you.
Even though everyone gathered at this rally,
Has throughout their lives been attached to the government...
They have become overwhelmed with joy,
That 'something'...
Whatever it was that had the support of 'this' president,
Would be defeated.
Even though it would have ultimately,
Benefitted all of their lives.'
That doesn't make too much sense.
In fact,
On the scale of 'stupidity'...
That sits right at the top!
'You know that.
I know that.
They however...
Haven't a clue! '
Where is their beloved leader now?
'He's the one standing alone,
Leaning against that fence over there...
Chain smoking! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ancestral domain my quest
history tells on people, geography, race, culture and
events, is a wonderful topic for, the process gives
meaningful aspect of human sphere
great civilization started in common principle, an
inherent idea, that all men are created equal, above
other living animal who lives in this wonderful earth
a unquestionable notion that all species are free to
procreate, free to exist, free to subdue of what is
given and has all the opportunity to live in any given
time
the land is the only living testimony that witness the
existence of our races in many ages, for it is the race
who own the land, any dishonor of the human race is
worse than death
not need to go, beyond cultural languages and principle
but only we need to know the basic principle that before
the culture comes to existence the human lives, owns
the land
defination of terminology, even indigenous people as
defind has nothing to say on the real meaning of race,
words definition, hutchs the essence of human race
it is now the quest of every race, to praxis and achieve
our meaningful existence, for only our race lives forever,
and zeal by time in the history of ancestral domain,
a quest of our human race.......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Hall Of Mirrors
The young man stepped into the hall of mirrors
Where he discovered a reflection of himself
Even the greatest stars discover themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars discover themselves in the looking glass
Sometimes he saw his real face
And sometimes a stranger at his place
Even the greatest stars find their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars find their face in the looking glass
He fell in love with the image of himself
and suddenly the picture was distorted
Even the greatest stars dislike themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars dislike themselves in the looking glass
He made up the person he wanted to be
And changed into a new personality
Even the greatest stars change themselves in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars change themselves in the looking glass
The artist is living in the mirror
With the echoes of himself
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars fix their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars fix their face in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
Even the greatest stars live their lives in the looking glass
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hate...
I hate,
hate that I can't trust
I hate,
hate that I must lie because they'd rather believe I'm fine.
I hate,
hate who I've been.
I hate,
hate to make decisions.
I hate,
hate that I can't hate those I should.
I hate,
hate my life.
I hate,
hate that I can't die.
I hate,
hate to live in fear and hate.
I hate,
hate my uncertainty.
I hate,
hate the lies people tell me.
I hate,
hate that I believe.
I hate,
hate those that wish their lives were mine.
I hate,
hate all emotion that's mine.
I hate,
hate that I need others.
I hate,
hate my own d*mn incompetence.
I hate,
hate that there's so much to hate.
poem by Dama Tristeza
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Property O My Property
property o my property
i use to be a man fine and witty
no cares in the world full of terimity
untill the heavens fell off my dad was murdered
and i was stranded with his property
property o my property
three flats into one, office, home and land what fun
rentals 6% home appreciation by 10%
money in black some in white
o my friends try and understand my plight
property o my property
some say it's worth 50 crs some say it's less
i use to be a free bird before
god knows how i landed up in this mess
brokers, dalla's, buyers and sellers
i have two houses still i am a lonely dweller
property o my property
what the hell to do with you
buy or sell take or give
now my life is not a life but a hell in which i live
property my property
o my dad's property
property o property o my dad's property
my well wishers say i cannot be trusted
to handle all this and i sure will be busted
so my friends you see my situation is dire
it's time like this that i feel i am walking on fire
property o property my dad's property
poem by Anuj Tikku
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To You, Africa
You are a beautiful terra firma
With beautiful people
Rich in history
Rich in prosperity
You are a land of life hard lived
Through droughts and famines
Your people had a lot to give
Your villages were of close community
Unlike that of civilization
You were the best example
that the world could have seen
Then the toubob began to arrive
And your people were taken
With no regard for your childrens lives
I know you are still shaken
Taken from the land they loved
Shoving their beloved Earth into their mouth
For one last taste of you, Africa
Your people have been stolen
Your people have been killed
Your generations have been lost
Your families have been torn apart
Your people have been enslaved
Your women have been raped
Your people have long suffered
Your people have lived through misery
Stolen for what purpose
Other than to be a serf
Some say it could have been worse
But we know it was the worst
Africa, your people are great
Your people are strong
Your people survived through it all
Your people still sung their songs
After 1865 they were freed
Yet still they were enslaved it seemed
Today there are still places that ban your people
Brought here unwillingly, to this 'land of the free'
Your people are who can change this nation
Your people are here for that reason
All hope is not lost
We will succeed regardless of the cost
This is to you, Africa
poem by Ryan Sanders
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Despite The Lies, Deceit And Torment
People with selective memories,
Always want others not to remember...
What it was they had done.
Especially to those who have survived,
To heal from wounds to live happy lives...
Despite the lies, deceit and torment,
Some enjoyed inflicting upon them.
And...
Coincidentally,
They remain the same people today...
Who selectively 'choose' to forget,
What it was done they did decisively to others...
With a purpose to damage and affect their lives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effects of what Others Do
Don't you dislike those implications?
I know I use to.
Especially the ones made,
By those who owe their lives to you.
The ones who have lied to others...
Who now have everything surfacing,
To have people see them...
As the fools I knew.
Those are the ones who like to take credit,
For things they did not do.
And today they want to prove themselves,
By overcompensating their judgements passed.
Only to find themselves,
Trapped by lies and deceit believed...
Buried in their past.
To now see what they've done now being trashed.
And not by me!
By that reflection they see.
'What goes around comes around.'
My mother use to say.
And, 'God don't like ugly, boy.
So you don't be that way.
He knows what's going on.
You'll see that one day.'
And as I've aged and matured,
I see the effects left by what others do.
With the attempt made to ruin lives of others.
And I know if they could have their druthers,
They would wish their feelings now felt inside...
Would not cling to linger as truths they can not deny.
'There is a reason WHY for everything.'
And I...
Use to dislike those implications made.
But I must say today I realize as I empathize...
Those I had despised,
Ruined their own lives not mine.
I'm not the one sitting with wishes,
I had lived a more righteous life.
I am happy living the life God to me has given!
With a conscious free and glad I had listened.
And did not rush to revenge those judgements.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Swan, Let us Fly
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Incredulous
Incredulous.
They stand deluded,
Inside their heads...
Fantasized.
Incredulous.
Those stances taken.
The heartbreaking done.
With a stubbornness unbecoming.
And a waste of time,
Spent faking.
So incredulous.
Empty rituals with untried faith.
And attempts to make,
What is not there to embrace,
With a 'reality' selected in its place.
Incredulous, yes!
On faces left and gone unaddressed.
And those that are not...
Must choose from them to leave.
Incredulous people,
ARE to be believed!
Do 'not' try to perceive them,
Otherwise.
Incredulous are those,
Who defy truth!
And wish to live their lives...
Totally in the worship of lies!
Incredulous!
And defying a mind satisfying,
Correctness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hate That I Hate
I hate the hate that resides in me now
I hate the hate that is so heavy it weighs me down
I hate the hate that keeps my emotions tightly wound
I hate the hate that charges my wall
I hate the hate that lies to strengthen my fall
I hate the hate that has me in chains
I hate the hate that courses through my veins
I hate the hate that is a shadow at my side
I hate the hate that has stolen my mind
I hate the hate that blinds me from the stars
I hate the hate that has created my war
I hate the hate that has stolen my grace
My scarlet letter written all over my face
poem by Adalie Hettie
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Is This Possible
Is it possible,
That some go out of their way...
To be noticably lacking of any skill,
Other than theft.
With no thought process,
Unless it is borrowed.
Is it possible?
Is it possible not to comprehend,
What creativity means?
Is it possible to clearly plagiarize,
Every concept that is seen...
And still declare one's originality!
Not only is this possible.
People have survived copying others' lives.
But to totally deny someone else's involvement...
Is the reason why some folks choose to hide,
While they continue to thrive off lies undetected.
Is this possible?
Not only is this possible...
That's how some people believe life works!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What This 'Oneness' Means
No one born into this life,
Has been sent to evaluate...
The creations of God.
Or the work of the Angels,
With distorted interpretations.
There are many who have the ability to quote.
But few have the courage to live and accept...
We all are part of the experience.
None are here to inspect and reject,
That which God has selected as HIS best.
Upset are those people,
Choosing to divide and separate...
Based upon ethnic values,
Assumed by a few to make them great.
From an isolation in which to generate their hate.
Upset are those people,
Who congegate to celebrate...
What others need to fulfill their lives.
With limited possibilities.
They place upon others,
With an inflicting done...
To disguise and hide their own insecurities.
No one born into this life,
Has been sent to evaluate...
The creations of God.
Or the work of the Angels,
With distorted interpretations.
There are many who have the ability to quote.
But few have the courage to live and accept...
We all are part of the experience.
None of us have been sent,
To dissect into segments...
The intentions of what a 'Oneness' has meant.
Or to any of us what this 'Oneness' means.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conditioned That Money Should Be Prized
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
With the use of color of their skins,
Light in complexion or dark as night...
Their minds with insights may be encased in,
The mentalities fed are to use this as a weapon,
To defend or ignite one's bigoted and racist appetite.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
And those who champion the marketing of images,
Aren't going to consciously reflect true beauty...
As it should be.
Beauty will be selective.
And chosen as a commodity.
To sell to those impressed,
And depress with suppression...
Those weakened through enforcing a belief!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
Of course they are going to feel subservient,
From birth until their lives end!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Those who get and hoard it best,
Will have others believe...
Their minds are at rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On the Edge With Lost Meaning
Arming themselves,
With guns and fear.
Snap, crackle pop.
Dropped minds,
Nonstopping.
Inciting, backbiting threats appear.
On landscapes groomed...
With more of this looming.
And...
These are the people who pray under steeples,
With hate!
In their eyes.
These are the people who say they live lives,
That are straight.
But gutterized in hiding.
And...
These are the people with morals that others debate.
To criticize.
But gone denied.
On the edge with lost meaning,
They choose to demean.
Those who speak truth and appear on the scene.
Confused hypocrites sitting on the ledge.
Threatening to jump if their needs are not fed.
And...
These are the people who say they live lives,
That are straight.
On the edge with lost meaning.
And...
These are the people with morals that others debate.
On the edge with lost meaning.
And...
These are the people who pray under steeples,
With hate!
On the edge with lost meaning.
And...
These are the people without visions forward to make.
And have chosen to not pray with faith!
Oh oooh...
And,
These are the people who say they live lives,
That are straight.
But gutterized in hiding.
And...
These are the people with morals that others debate.
To criticize.
But gone denied.
Arming themselves,
With guns and fear.
Snap, crackle pop.
Dropped minds,
Nonstopping.
And these are the people who've chosen themselves,
To eliminate.
On the edge with lost meaning...
With no brakes applied to their fates!
Oh oooh..
NO?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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