Noisy Minds
Accusatory and noisy minds,
Seem to never find their way out of the woods.
And the ones seeking to be understood.
To them...
It has been their childhood, parents or siblings,
That have destroyed a perception they cling onto...
With excuses made as to why they can excuse,
Everything done they do...
By laying the blame on someone else,
For the insecurities they have welcomed.
With a self examination,
Out of the range of questions...
They can not seem to answer.
Or willing to ask of themselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Reducing Their Associations
There is no time left,
To waste in contemplation.
Or sit in waiting for days to return,
To make the comforting of insecurities...
Welcomed to feast on denials.
These times lived upon us now,
Are for those getting introduced to truth.
And reducing their associations,
From the many still using reliable excuses.
Even though those events that happened,
Just last week protect no one.
None with beliefs...
That the use of outdated info can be used as validation.
That's how needless those stuck in mindsets are.
Depending on pointless explanations to find themselves.
They wish to detail that which has already been understood,
And gone!
There is no time left,
To waste in contemplation.
Or sit in waiting for days to return,
To make the comforting of insecurities...
Welcomed to feast on denials.
That's how needless those stuck in mindsets are.
Depending on pointless explanations to find themselves.
They wish to detail that which has already been understood,
And gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Shall Recover and We Must
It has become very easy for 'some' social misfits...
To blame their insecurities,
And atrocious misdeeds...
On the lack of attention given to them,
By their ancestors, parents...
And equally crazed friends.
And they wont have to look far,
To find those defending them.
With high profiled psychologists...
Seeking from a weeping nation,
To uncover deep sympathy...
Commited by these beasts,
For their anti-social sins.
' We must explore from the depths of our beliefs,
A forgiveness for these vicious attacks.
We shall all recover,
And we must...
From the pain that has been caused to us,
By such heinous acts.
And we should not blame our way of life,
It is not 'us' but 'them'.
And remember that!
Afterall,
No one listening to this...
Should be,
Or should be made to feel...
Responsible.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Everyone's Lips As An Expectation
Those tasks one is given to complete,
Are not to be done to inspire 'awe'.
Tests that challenge are not easy missions.
And will be finished when a direction is given.
And those seeking an easy life to live,
Without a bruise to get...
Are the ones campaigning,
With others of like minds...
To comfort their insecurities,
Through acts of fault finding!
Wishing them 'good luck'...
Would not be in their favor!
And their numbers...
Are slowly decreasing.
With an acknowlegement understood,
That seems to be growing of this.
Accountability is on the rise.
With eyes on those who are opposed,
To carrying their own weight!
Excuses embellished,
With exaggeration..
Has been dismissed.
And this is to be done,
With or without signs of appreciation.
It is on everyone's lips as an expectation.
Since these times we live are not for charade.
With a delivery of a message sent,
That will be made clear!
And adhering to it is advisable.
Or...
There are always those consequences,
Many seem not to mind to pay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Understanding Late
I understood about my parents
Only after their deaths.
I understood about my siblings
Only after their parenthood.
I understand about my children
Only after my invalidity.
In case I am reborn,
I would not do wiser.
(30.01.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Understanding is only misunderstanding
When you say
“I understand”
You simply confess
That you are only trying
To understand
And you affirm
To guard against
Misunderstanding
Though this may not be true
In a technical discussion
This is always true
When attempts are made
To evaluate issues
Pertaining to minds and emotions
Let us admit
We have not understood
Any one and
Any of the thought processes
Associated with any individual
How many of us
Have understood our parents?
How many of us
Have understood our spouses?
How many of us
Have understood our brothers
And sisters?
How many of us
Have understood our sons
And daughters?
How many of us
Have understood our customers,
Employers and employees
Bosses and sub-ordinates
More you are confident
About these understandings
More likely
You have misunderstood them
Do not ever claim
That you have
Understood others
As you now understand
That
Understanding is only
Misunderstanding
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Perceivers Of Knowledge
that was a good question
the previous answer
was for the young novice
yours was not a novice question
an answer is formulated
at appropriate questioner learning level
least understanding is lost
an answer must be perceived understood
if there is no perception
interaction with concepts conveyed
no progression will be made
no knowledge will be attained
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Some Are So Creative
When some folks begin...
To make excuses.
It is a process for them,
That never ends.
They keep making excuses,
To use and abuse their family and friends.
In an addicting process...
Predictable!
Eventually identified as lies.
And applied over and over again.
Some are so creative,
As to make people believe...
Those who can see through this,
Are wrong not to comprehend...
An obvious illness,
Hidden within!
And why excuses for them exist.
Going on in their minds,
Without the slightest resistance...
Time after time.
And then comes the campaign...
To discredit and bad mouth others.
Either stating someone believes,
They have opinions that are not concrete.
When anyone who has ever made contact with them...
Notices too late,
They too have been wrapped up in a waste of time...
Helping the excuse maker to defend!
Only to find themselves in public disagreements.
And having the innocent eyes of a pathological liar...
Gaining sympathy from those,
Who had not been over time exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Way That Wind Actually Blew To Blow
Often complaints are heard,
From grown men and women...
Who they blame for their insecurities.
While they did nothing innocently,
To become tearfully mistreated.
Either it will be,
Parents or other family members.
Or friends that eventually leave them,
To discover they have had it seeking...
Ways to please the selfishness of whims.
Only to hear from the mouths of others,
How someone who had been used,
Is now accused of abandonment.
Leaving only those who came to know,
Which way that wind actually blew to blow.
With the ceasing of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Classic Are The Reactions
Classic are the reactions,
Of those given advice!
But have a need to attack,
Those they approached...
For advice that is solicited,
Not once but more than twice.
That advice was not taken,
By those now shakened.
And today they are on the scene...
Disliking the circumstances,
Those choices they themselves made...
That embarrasses them,
And publicly demeans.
With only themselves left to blame,
For not taking the advice...
To avoid their outlandish claims.
They now wish to inflict,
An emotional pain...
On those who unselfishly,
To their aid came.
With an escaping of responsibility...
And an accusatory slandering,
Of names to defame.
As they take to the streets,
To shame others in deceiving campaigns!
Hoping that such organized ignorance...
Will smother their insecurities,
With an attention that gains!
Like a child who cries, 'Victim'...
To their own applied lies.
'No empthy for me,
So they must bleed.
No empthy for me,
So they must bleed.
No empthy,
No empthy...
So they must bleed! '
~What is that all about? ~
Just some folks who made decisions,
And hated the outcome of their choices made.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Wish To Be Understood
Who has the right to decide,
They would like to get to know someone else...
Better than they do,
If the life that one is living with a seeking sought...
Is still beset by questions,
They themselves can not answer.
But frequently they are heard to request from others,
A wish to be understood.
With comments made,
That the one they've selected...
To closely inspect to gain an acceptance,
Is either too crazy or impatient to allow confusion...
An entry into their peacefully private and quiet life.
To then state to others,
How stand-offish and anti-social...
Someone they have annoyed has treated them,
With a meanness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Refuse To Say Anything About It
I am 'not' going to say anything,
About 'anyone' and their insecurities.
It is pointless to keep harping upon them,
When those who have them are clearly possessive.
And who am I to mention who is insecure?
You know what I'm saying?
Who gave me the right to perceive,
Those with insecurities feed upon them.
With a seeking of others,
To defend their weaknesses.
And that is one of the reasons,
I refuse to say anything about it.
I'm sure people with insecurities,
Know they've got them.
'Well,
I am glad you didn't bring it up for discussion.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mental Rush
...and here we are once again!
With the issue of race,
Subjecting the color of one's skin!
Hasn't this been repeated,
Throughout a history depleted
Of self reflection?
Insecurities of a lack of pigmentation...
Has created an inner hate.
To satiate an inflated,
Degraded sensation baited!
They can not set themselves free?
Well...
This time around,
Those excuses will not be used to compound,
The reality that comes to further confuse
An abused mentality!
You see...
The angels that are here,
Do not appear
To have come to quench their thirst on our anguish!
It has been made clear to them
Our minds need adjusting,
From the destructive stuff!
By lifting our minds,
To heighten a consciousness
none of us can touch!
Prepare yourself...
for a mental rush!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Gets Me To Wonder
(10/01/11)
Life gets me to wonder, life gets me to think
Am I losing my mind, am I on the brink.
So many questions that enter my mind every day
I think hard about one, and the rest seem to fade away.
Once I find the answer then to the next level I will go
It’s amazing - how god lets us know.
Every question and every answer is a step
That we must climb - and we’ll continue to do this
Till the end of our time.
We will always have questions - that’s why
God gave us a mind.
Knowledge is power on that I don’t deny.
But there are more questions than any of us care to admit
And when we can’t answer them - we surely catch a fit.
Questions about health, love, work, religion
Just to name a few - this list goes on
What are we supposed to do.?
poem by Louis Rams
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Twice Becomes a Habit
Doing what we please.
With the selling of our embellishments.
Has come under much scrutiny.
And a call to be precise...
Does not sit too comfortably,
With those irresponsible.
And others n'er do well.
Seeking a laziness to entice.
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
Some may see this as discrimination.
Not a justification...
To do away with incompetence.
And those who half accomplish...
What their intentions find difficult to finish.
These days a mediocrity,
Is being ushered from the spotlight.
Success comes with applied effort.
Not from those accepted as nice.
But aren't up to the challenge...
To get things done,
With sacrifice.
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
Gone are those days of going through the motions.
And adopting the notion,
Procrastination fascinates those with patience waiting.
Time is not a blind date...
Hoping to approve who shows and comes,
Out of breath with expressed excuses.
And annoying the diligent ones.
That tick-tocking on those clocks have stopped!
To abuse this twice becomes a habit.
To keep it fed becomes routine.
And refusing people like this,
From addressed strict agendas...
Keeps a purpose with direction flourished.
As long as it is understood...
They will always be kept in minds respected.
But their absence is welcomed,
When they are far away from strategic scenes.
Not to demean.
But to accomplish.
'No offense.
But we are here to get things done.
You understand that,
Don't you? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like Most Folks Stuck Floating On Stubborn Ego Trips
Someone has filled your head,
With their beliefs you accepted as reality.
This gave you a comfort you did not research.
And whatever it was that had been implanted,
You've been clinging onto it since your birth.
Evidence has proven your point of view to be deluded.
But you insist to enlist explanation to include with excuses.
A self examination would have corrected what has been done.
But you laugh this off as if to distance from the seriousness.
You've befriended insecurities and immaturity too.
And nurturing both has not been to your benefit.
Nor accusations made about others being cruel to you.
No!
A truth pursued has never been your priority.
And to know it now would only leave you deeper in conflict.
You're sick!
And the unfortunateness of this...
You seem to hang onto it as if it validates your existence.
Like most folks stuck floating on stubborn ego trips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bang And Blame
If you could see yourself now, baby
Its not my fault
You used to be so in control
Youre going to roll right over this one
Just roll me over, let me go
Youre laying blame
Take this as no, no, no, no, no
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go
If you could see yourself now, baby
The tables have turned
The whole world hinges on your swings
Your secret life of indiscreet discretions
Id turn the screw and leave the screen
Dont point your finger
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go now
Youve got a little worry
I know it all too well
Ive got your number
But so does every kiss and tell
Who dares to cross your threshold
Or happens on you way
Stop laying blame
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Its not my thing so let it go
You bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
Then blame, blame, blame
Its not my thing so let it go
You kiss on me, tug one me
Rub on me, jump on me
You bang on me, beat on me
Hit on me, let go on me
You let go on me
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Understood To Exclude Them From Truths
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Quick to betray,
If their insecurities are threatened.
But yet to display,
Are their excuses made with few exceptions.
Associations with people like this,
Over time decreases in respect.
Explanations of their neglect...
Eventually from them some should expect.
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Maturity is dismissed,
In the minds of people with this addiction.
And it is unfortunate they allow themselves...
To be chased away by delusions.
With a praying done their delusions will stay,
To be understood to exclude them...
From truths they painfully detest.
And hate to face from day to day.
As a life lived in reality eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bang & Blame
If you could see yourself now, baby
Its not my fault
You used to be so in control
Youre going to roll right over this one
Just roll me over, let me go
Youre laying blame
Take this as no, no, no
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
If you could see yourself now baby,
The tables have turned
The whole world hinges on your swings
Your secret life of indiscreet discretions
Id turn the screw and leave the screen,
Dont point your finger,
You know thats not my thing
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
Youve got a little worry,
I know it all too well,
Ive got your number,
But so does every kiss-and-tell
Who dares to cross your threshold,
Or happens on your way,
Stop laying blame.
You know thats not my thing.
You know thats not my thing,
You came to bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Blame, blame, blame
You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang,
Its not my thing so let it go.
You kiss on me, tug on me, rub on me, jump on me,
You bang on me, beat on me, hit on me, let go on me,
You let go on me.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Will Receive This Portion Of Blame?
A portion of bait blame squarely laid
at the feet of sly Satan the red horned
demon lurking behind closed doors
of deceit dripping with malice thorns
an ancient excuse for all vapour mist evils
excuse for all failures all tribulations
all sorrow all worries all incurred debts
all misses of standard mark all self pities.
God blesses work of hands good will done
works of ill will receive no angel blessings
excuses conform to configure an ill nature.
I ill matured man lay on a host of excuses
I pick choose a myriad of hard luck abuses
reason this that cannot wait to relate ruses.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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