On Levels Already Delusioned
Interpretating what life should be,
On levels already delusioned...
By those doing their best to enforce their standards,
Upon the mindset of every living human being...
Begets only pain and sorrow,
To those who have created their existence...
For others to follow to eventually discover themselves,
Plagued by insecurities and self destruction.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Ser-en-dip-i-ty
he
begets poetry
begets interest
begets poets
begets poetry
begets respect
begets inspiration
begets poetry
begets hope
begets them/they/she
begets poetry
begets love
begets this
2005
poem by Jeffrey SpahrSummers
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Quick Possession
Insignificant they see themselves.
And a showing of this towards life as well.
Hollow and ungrateful feelings,
Taught and perceived by those whose beliefs...
Were dictated to them in environments,
Where they represent the people living in them.
Insignificant they see themselves.
Just like their parents who felt the same way.
With similar images of obtaining success,
As a quick possession of what they can get.
With a having of that which impresses,
No matter how easy such unrealities come to be lived.
Or what the judge says before sentencing them to prison.
A mindset fixed and conditioned to be self centered,
Is a mindset that lacks other values!
And those 'standards' by which they live...
Is obtained by the entertaining of decadence.
With such a marketing done that trivializes life...
And the significance of being human.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No One To Blame
They are going to win back,
Their redundancy.
And discover who the failures,
Really are.
And they will find themselves,
Just as useless...
As their pointless debates.
Although this time with no one to blame.
Greed begets deceit begets stupidity!
And that hopefully begets,
Self examination that begets remorse.
And that begets humility that gets everyone,
Back on course to divorce all foolishness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Resistance To Its Existence
Only those who have discovered the truth,
For what it really is...
Can no longer submit to denial.
Or masquerade the experiencing of pain.
Pain has a way of making personal,
Its visitations...
When the prolonging of a resistance,
To its existence...
Is revealed in the feeling of it.
With an intended healing,
From all that had been delusioned.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants,
Subdued...
In a resistance to truth's existence.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Refusing the acceptance of truth...
Is observed subdued,
In a resistance to its existence.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
In a resistance to truth's existence.
While attempting to escape from its insistence.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Moonbeam Levels
Yesterday I tried 2 write a novel but I didn't know where 2 begin
So I laid down in the grass tryin' 2 feel the world turn
Boy loses girl in a rain storm, nuclear World War III
All that's left is pain and sorrow, as far as he's concerned
CHORUS:
He says please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
I'm lookin' 4 a better place 2 die
Maybe he's lookin' 4 a different world
Maybe he's lookin' 4 a brand new high
Maybe he would like a nice condo overlookin' the rings of Saturn
Maybe he wants affection instead of a plastic life
Maybe he doesn't know what he wants at all
CHORUS
A newborn child knows nothing of destruction
Nothing of love and hate
What happens in between is a mystery
Because we don't give a damn about his fate
He said he'll never keep diaries 2 learn from his mistakes
Instead he'll just repeat all the good things that he's done
Fight 4 perfect love until it's perfect love he makes
When he's happy then his battle will be won (It's never 2 late)
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
(Send your.. send 2 me)
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
(Send your levels 2 me)
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me
(Sending me your.. send 2 me)
I'm lookin' 4 a better place 2 die (Better place 2 die)
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me (Oh yeah!)
Please send all your moonbeam levels 2 me {x2}
He don't, he don't, he don't really wanna die
He don't wanna, he don't wanna, he don't wanna die {x2}
He don't really wanna die
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm living a dream
I'm living a dream
where people stay together as one
as god want us to be
where all the enemies compromise and become as one
i'm living a dream
where i could wake up and look at the blue sky with a happy sunny face
where i could watch the rainbow on the sky
i'm living a dream
where the battle have to come to an end
i'm living a dream
where i could hear the singing bird
where i could stand on the top of a high mountain and shout for freedom
poor me
we yell at each other
we used each other
we hurt each other
because we are human
this is a way of life
my people let's hope for the best
my people lets stop being selfish
open your eyes and see the world is drifting apart
because of us
i'm living a dream
where we all become as one
holding hands in hands
I'm living a dream
where we all could live without any pain and sorrow
how wonderful would it be
if we stay together
die together
blame together
i just realized we are only human
I'm living a dream
poem by Guenael Oristel
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My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
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Honesty Begets Honesty
Honesty begets honesty
It is equivocatingly disparaging
Because honesty is an esoteric riddle
And a riddle begets a riddle
When you think it is inequitable
That life begets death
And not the pulp of life,
And death begets life
When you appealed for death
It is because they are one and similar
The equivocal correlation
Is but another juggle of affectation
In supercilious entanglement
So we fumble on the hills
Of the pre-determined sequence
Wretched friends, we are all dazed
About religion and politics,
And stereotypes and chauvinism,
And philosophy and geometry,
In a tête-à-tête with disparity
It is all but the same
From the encrusted veneer
To the profane epicenter,
As with veracity and metaphors
We are reveling gypsies
With pawned feet of stones.
When honesty begets honesty
You will figure for yourself
That life is but a game
And we are all to topple
In the treacle of sincerity
Because honestly,
Nothing begets nothing
Equivalent to an enema for the eczema
The paranoia protracts in an echolalia
Do not hand down your honesty
Because honestly,
You would abscond honesty.
poem by Norman Santos
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Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution
Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow
for he will receive no further retribution
and he will depart this earth with nothing but
anguish, pain, misery, sorrow
and retribution lost
poem by Tinashe Severa
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What More?
Pain of this life is so difficult to digest
Feelings of pain just increase in their dimensions
Measuring pain is next to being impossible
Sorrow, is just another word for pain
Although, when pain turns into suffering
Then the dimension of life achieves a totally different meaning
Since, life sometimes requires a healer in it
So that even the most painful of feelings, just fade away
Though, in my life pain never heals
As the sorrow just increases
Till, I actually start to torture myself
That is why I am so used to being hurt and being worn
What more can I say?
poem by Rohit Sapra
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Unknown To You
sorrow lost is pain unknown,
pain unknown is greatness unshown.
the end of sorrow marks the end of a life.
living in hate is a sad existence,
giving no chance to face the end.
the end is near when I choose to be away.
afraid, no other options, the door opens,
and I will walk through it.
poem by Brittney Karasek
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Alankar (Decor) -33
Mindset(Short Rondel)
It's my mindset to keep going
Like the tortoise won the racing
Being slow and steady throughout
Though slow I go steady devout
Running firm towards my target
It's my mindset
I'm proud never to lose my game
Unlike the hare that slept with shame
But to win focussed at my goal
To give my best of poetic role..
It's my mindset
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Baffled
There are those living
Who actually are convinced
They have power to enforce their beliefs
On other people to accept without objection
And these very same people
Regardless of the kind of enforcement they use
Are baffled that the cost of their attempts
Have their creditors making suggestions
As to what they should sell
To pay off their debts
Created to enforce others
To accept in a bowing done
How a way life lived
In in the best of their interests
Making not a bit of sense
Even to those debating themselves
In campaigns
Over realities they can no longer afford
To have others believe anymore
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Have A Tendency To Ridicule And Attack One Another Harshly On The Deepest Levels
We have a tendency to ridicule and attack one another harshly on the deepest levels, really calumniate to destroy one other emotionally, morally, personally. This reflects the emotional ignorance, lack of understanding and emotional respect we where subjected to, often unintentionally, as children as infants, as newborns, it gets played out in all sorts of elaborate fashions but in essence it is the results of our hurt minds, emotions, feelings and soul.
How do you respond in a healing manner to others that are important to you that are marooned on such emotionally stunted levels that hold such limiting, painfully restricting views? You do not go down to their level, nor do you pretend that the gravity of their mindset is not toxic. You go on with your life, as you do you might occasionally invite them to meet you on higher grounds but do not engage in battles on lower levels. You lose your self and power that way. You gain self and strength when you have the space to engage live freely, meaningfully that only comes when you do not restrict your self to battles on lower levels. You healing these who are receptive to heal, in time others will find their own way if the choose to let go of the unfulfilling ways they are exercising on lower levels, mind sets, when such individuals stop using control for control sake. If out of stubbornness they wish to remain immature, that is their choice, you do not have to destroy your self, hurt your self in engaging with them, by connecting with them, in trying to save them if they do not want to move.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Not Delusioned By a Truth of Observation
Folks who have become accustomed,
To practicing their own genocide...
Are only prepared for their instant removal.
And they are not about to abandon,
Their addictions...
That are religiously fragmented,
In the hopes of a hereafter.
They have been clinically and hopelessly,
'Disneyized'.
And the only thing I can extend,
To that kind of mindset...
Is my best wishes.
That's it.
Nothing more!
Not another moment of my time do I give,
To nonsense.
I am not delusioned by a truth of observation.
Nor the devastation of ignorance.
Which is fixed and permanently prominent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thought Silence
Silence begets thought;
Thought begets action;
Action begets change;
Change begets decay;
Decay begets silence;
Silence begets.......
poem by Mill Field
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Dear Sorrow, Death Awaits Your Acquaintance
The rain keeps Falling
And the Pain goes on
Your name I try calling
But the words just pass on by
The air
Bitter and cold
The shivers now suddenly unfold
I start to lose my breath
And once again see death
Face to Face we see
That life for me, isn't supposed to be
'She is Not important,
Shes lost in the shadows..
Drowning in grief and pain
There will be no tomorrow,
For she is all Sorrow'
'She is all sorrow'
There shall be no Tomorrow for Dear Sweet Sorrow.
Sorrow, Sorrow In the air
Death Has come so stay prepared.
poem by Sorrow Lynn
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Too Off Track to Laugh
The moment you allowed my pain...
Believing that will promote your gain,
Was the beginning of your unraveling.
You used all of your institutions...
To introduce my mental execution!
To degrade my way of life,
To enhance a current strife you now fight!
I could delight!
But your decadent way of interpretating might...
Is too off track to laugh!
What you have done is tragic and sad!
Especially what you have done to those...
Who chose to colorize their fears.
What will they do when it is realized...
The terrorists you criticized,
Were of their own kind!
Doing anything to induce havoc.
And bringing down their treasured structures...
Right before their eyes!
What will they do when it is realized...
You allowed my pain...
Believing that will promote your gain!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A People Of Progressive Ideals
Divisive politics?
I don't believe it.
Bigoted and rascist remarks,
Intended?
No way!
The people today,
Only wish to have their beliefs represented.
In a cohesive wholesomeness,
That is clearly being misunderstood.
Aren't we a people of progressive ideals?
Reflecting those standards that are valued?
Aren't we a people of an envied mindset,
Sold the world over to appeal?
Divisive politics?
I don't believe it.
Bigoted and rascist remarks,
Intended?
No way!
Aren't we a people of progressive ideals?
Reflecting those standards that are valued?
Aren't we a people of an envied mindset,
Sold the world over to appeal?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Left Unexplained
Expressing one's beliefs,
Is a good thing...
To explore in the sharing,
Of those differences.
With an appreciation,
That a sharing like this brings.
But to enforce upon another,
Beliefs to inflict...
Sorrow and pain,
With no end to it...
Is a life spent in conflict.
And unending regret,
To be left unexplained.
With sorrows to be agonized.
For a lifetime given,
As generations defend...
To appease a foolishness,
Of those conflicts that exists.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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