Once Closed Now Opened
It is impossible to undo,
An awakening done to one.
Eyes and ears once closed now opened,
Connects with comprehension.
What others may not receive to welcome.
And in the doing so of one who awakes,
It becomes difficult for one's impatience.
To remain from others concealed.
Especially when that which comes to attach,
Are facts of life revealed
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Has Been Revealed
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with eyes tightly closed...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with an upturned nose...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with pretensions,
Left to charade.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with the cool-aid made...
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even with debates...
Created for more time to waste.
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even those who protest,
Unaccepting with wishes to reject!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
Even the message,
And the messenger to detest!
What has been revealed,
Has been revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unified Pursuits
Now that many are awakening,
To see how reality connects and works.
They are wishing to contact those dismissed,
For not being this or that.
And being considered in that past,
As those without identity with a calling them jerks.
And their activities had no connection,
To those living in distressed communities!
Or not being 'real' when efforts they made,
Were ignorantly in need of attack as then perceived.
Times have a way of changing all that!
Now that eyes have been opened wide,
Those caught up in their 'new' discovered truths...
Are curious why those dismissed,
Have no interest in participating in their 'unified' pursuits.
Or retracing...
Those dismissed steps,
They have long ago left!
With a 'Best Wishes' on their peaceful breaths.
And showing not a sign or a hint of regret.
In fact, there is a happiness revealed they reflect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love Connects
Love connects us with everyone and everything,
Love bridges our hearts with gratitude,
Our connection with life becomes stronger through feeling,
Love connects us with everyone and everything :)
Love connects us with necessary pain,
Love provides pain to gain awareness,
Our connection to ourselves gets stronger as pain leaves,
Love connects us with necessary pain :)
Love connects us with our passions,
Love encourages self expression and spontaneity,
Our connection to our truth becomes stronger by sharing,
Love connects us with our passions :)
Love connects us with truth always,
Love shares truth to guide us to ourselves,
Our connection becomes stronger as we receive it,
Love connects us with truth always :)
poem by Paul Jensen Jr
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No Difference
i stared out the window
at the bare frozen limbs
of my favorite old tree...
i closed my eyes...
saw leaves bud forth
and turn green...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i stared at the young girl
reading at a corner table
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old grandmother
washing dishes with her grandbabies
playing in the floor at her feet...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw the young man
carrying his son on his shoulders
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old man standing
by his son's casket
draped by a flag...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw an old man
standing on the corner begging
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy
playing ball in the street
laughing and dodging cars
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a crack head shivering
by an electric heater in a bare apartment
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young a/g student
helping some kid with his math
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a desperate girl
walking the streets
looking for a john
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young girl's room
stuffed animals on the bed
pictures of her and her daddy on the wall
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a young man
wild-eyed with fear
in a prison cell
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy gone hunting
with his grandpa on thanksgiving morn
with his dog by his side
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i pulled back the veil of time...
knowing, there is no difference!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Undone To Undo
Undone to undo...
Those passionate insights.
Individuality disconnected,
To a symbolic way of life.
Undone to undo...
Questions and curiousity.
Freedom to disconnect...
From a torn and decadent society.
Undone to undo...
Truth and honesty.
A rise in higher consciousness,
That allows eyes wide open that see.
Undone to undo...
Facts and nonfiction.
To restrict convictions.
Undone to undo...
Influence that speaks,
To those poor and meek...
Reaching to strengthen,
Identities that seek...
A reality that teaches,
Shackles are for the sheep...
Heading for mutilation.
And a mindless humanity!
Undone to undo...
You and I.
And all good deeds pursued,
We attempt to do.
Undone to undo...
But intervention,
Prevents it.
Intervention prevents it.
Intervention prevents it.
An intervention,
Prevents it.
And dimensions,
Diminish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Day When The Sitting To Listen Comes
The day when the sitting to listen comes,
Those who hadn't done it before...
Will discover a wealth of knowledge can be obtained.
Impatience with a running mouth...
And ears blocked,
Makes for poor comprehension.
And those who lack experience,
Are generally the ones...
Who believe they can not be taught anything.
Incompetence loves the company,
Of others equally ignorant.
Especially those who have gained their influence,
Through social networking and kissing tail.
The day when the sitting to listen comes,
Those who hadn't done it before...
Will discover a wealth of knowledge can be obtained.
And what has been done by misdeed and in discreet...
Will be seen for what it is to undo.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fixed As If Cemented
Those who remain with wishes,
To see things as they would choose to view them.
And not how things are.
Since things are the way they have been...
Unchanged and unbending.
Fixed as if cemented.
There is nothing to say,
To those like that.
Those who disbelieve,
Things are not as they are seen.
But 'should' be the way they would 'like'?
That is alright.
Do not frustrate in argument with them.
Your time...
Not theirs,
Is to mellow like fine wine.
Know this!
Others who have had these 'things'...
Just as they are and wish to leave them that way.
Defend their points of view.
Despite what it is you do.
Whether you condone what is done or not.
And it is difficult to get that across to some people.
But not for the few!
Who have chosen their own lives to live.
And have chosen to do the best they can...
To assist,
With any apparent awakening...
Some stand by and expect.
However,
If things as they are as observed are accepted...
By those affected.
And they wish things to be just the way they are?
'Left-a-lone! '
It is better to leave what is seen that way.
ALONE!
Turn away from it and live one's own life.
Frustration free and nurturing one's peace of mind!
Unless?
There is always an 'unless' involved.
Unless...
One has desires to remain in darkness!
And argue about the prospects,
Of a light that could shine...
Between two ears already known closed.
Optimistic people love the concept of options!
Although,
Some narrow minds will never open that wide!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give and You Will Receive More
Enjoy your blessings!
Each and everyone.
Those to you that have arrived.
And many more to come.
None are disguised,
To try to identify.
If you have lived your life with opened eyes...
The presence of their existence is felt.
They should not have traumatized.
Or surprised.
They come to you,
As well as to someone else.
Acknowledge them with thankfulness.
Be grateful they are yours.
Undo yourself from selfishness.
Give and you will receive more.
Enjoy your blessings!
Each and everyone.
Those to you that have arrived.
And many more to come.
Acknowledge them with thankfulness.
Give and you will receive more.
Blessings given are to be shared!
If they were not...you would have been ignored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I First Lost My Impatience
I felt dirty and betrayed,
When I first lost my impatience.
I felt...
Used and so unclean.
I knew I had been stripped,
Of an innocence I would never have again.
To be vicious, cruel and mean...
Was all I saw and knew,
As a child growing up...
To be exposed to seeing these scenes.
People were being cussed out and talked about,
For not sharing their potato chips! Seriously.
I didn't know exactly why,
My impatience had been taken away...
In the manner it was done.
But I grew to understand there was a purpose.
And even if I shared all my chips...
I can always buy another bag. I learned!
Today I have discovered,
I have more patience than I have ever had.
And some who have come to test me...
Are surprised I am not so quick,
To give them a taste of impatience.
I have found a life I am determined to live.
One with a peace of mind...
And freed from 'identified' evil people.
Patience taught me how to observe first,
With my mouth closed and ears open to listen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 1)
They took the cotton gauze away
from his closed eyes.
“You can open them now Mr D.”
He opened his eyes to see hazy figures there,
black and grey images, and nothing more.
A gentle and kind voice, asked him what he saw.
“Hazy images>“He replied.
“It will be like that for a little while,
and then they will begin to clear.”
Each day his sight got better, the
haze began to clear.
Then the colour came,
and a rainbow spectrum appeared before his eyes,
of things he could never see.
A light shone through his life,
of things he had never known.
A new awakening
with images to fit the sounds.
His mind began to wonder
where his new eyes had come from.
They were not allowed to tell him,
who the donor was or anything about them.
Finally, he was released from hospital.
He went back to his flat
where he had to learn again,
where everything was now that he could see.
He smiled at the white walking stick.
He would keep it as a reminder
of how lucky he was.
Sitting in his chair in the sunshine,
as it came through the window.
Then it happened.
It was as if he were in a dream.
The images lost their colour.
He was in a place he had never seen before.
Hands reached out around the neck,
of a face he could not see.
It seemed as if
they were strangling the life out of someone there.
The body struggled and then went limp.
On the body, falling, the face was now revealed.
A young pretty face
distorted in the throes of death.
poem by David Harris
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Sound Bites
Bitten and spit.
To get a morsel...
Not all of it.
And the folks getting it,
Eat it up!
Not a moment of it wasted,
On providing facts.
Not complete...
For a comprehension to receive it.
Sound bites bitten to scoop the news.
To dropp a little bit to confuse.
Just to extend the taste of what is chewed.
And that's what sound bites bitten done,
Do!
A buffet that's meager,
For a taste to choose.
With a tease that's given.
And a hope what's nibbled makes good news.
Just to extend the taste of what is chewed.
And that's what sound bites bitten done,
Do!
Not a moment of it wasted,
On providing facts.
Not complete...
For a comprehension to receive it.
Bitten and spit.
To get a morsel...
Not all of it.
And the folks getting it,
Eat it up!
And that's what sound bites bitten,
Done...
Do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind!
Seeing and hearing,
Is it eye that see?
Is it ear that hear?
Eyes are windows of Mind,
Like are ears, eyes have eyelids, ears remain open!
Seeing is not perceiving,
Light passes through the small camera,
Giving picture of world around,
Yet mind is the processor,
Process the data,
Process the colourful image,
Sometime filling with its own colour!
But it is not vision,
mind sees something itself,
Seeing through the mind without the help of eyes
Neither windows opened,
Nor light from open windows affect!
Mind is that faculty sees something within,
And day by day the vision become clear,
When mind learns it is not the seer,
It sees everything clear,
Clearly presented to the master,
And Self is the master of Mind,
When mind is pure and clear,
Without prejudice and suspense traits,
Self perceives self in its true nature,
Nothing goes bad,
processed food for thought remain good for ever!
one who sees eyes as seer,
He is ignorant,
One who sees mind as a seer,
Knows not,
One whose mind sees the seer is different,
Vision get purified, seer can see through the mind,
Scenes seen by mind with eyes closed,
when perceived by seer,
It becomes vision of life,
And that vision when becomes ambition of life,
Ambition becomes aspiration,
Aspiration transforms into mission,
Mission transmits wisdom and genius of self!
Self becomes master Of mind
Self becomes master Mind,
Master and mind becomes one,
Master Of Mind Can only be a Master Mind
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Fixed Beliefs
So difficult it has to be,
For many to catch up...
From principles outdated.
And feeding on fast diets of all kinds.
To leave them with poisoned minds,
Stressed...
By a merriment cemented,
To a way of life...
Causing duress with fixed beliefs.
And in fear of reality...
Encroaching upon their precious 'standards'
Kept deluded.
To dismiss this has to be difficult.
To observe it as a witness,
Is a blessing disguised!
Revealed as eyes are opened.
Despite restrictions...
Those feeling suppressed,
Grew.
They had to.
Knowing life offered more than traps.
Beyond displays of isolated hatred...
Graphically mapped,
And strategically studied.
To finally comprehend...
For them,
They are all related...
In blood and need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Investment to Manipulate Eternity
Reality slowly has to you been revealed.
But your addiction to fantasy,
Has left truth to be suspected.
Even though you are quick to be deceived...
Anything that reeks of an apology,
You will receive and believe.
Thinking this action,
Provides you a more respected life!
And an investment to manipulate eternity.
And those with their eyes closed,
Have chosen to overdose on fed delusion.
Numb they are to anything that is real.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Impossible
What seems to be impossible, is realized through the God of Israel,
By God, all things are possible, while His purpose, God does fulfill.
Christ is Immanuel, God with us, and in The Lord, we place our trust,
Though men are but of dust, He does the impossible in men like us.
All the impossible for God above, is nothing for His Awesome Love,
Guiding us in times deemed tough; showing all what faith’s made of.
The impossible comes many ways, as we live out these earthly days,
But as the task, to Him we raise, He turns that impossible into praise.
The things in life that men pursue, Christ, in Heaven above foreknew,
All difficult things we need to do, can and will be completed through,
The authority of the Living God, who reigns above this earth we trod,
As God guides us with staff and rod, as we travel on the earthly sod.
Even situations that we can face, would be impossible without Grace,
As we look back to time and place, God’s Hand in lives we can trace.
His hand of Grace reaches down, where the impossible can be found,
With a love that’s sure and sound, providing a Grace that will abound.
Nothing is impossible for Him, who sent His Son to die for all our sin,
Using our faith God puts within, He helps us through the time we’re in.
All the impossible men conceive, God works out in those who believe,
So The Spirit in others may conceive, desire that His Son they receive.
(12/2007)
No... I Can Not Believe It
You've got my nose opened wide.
Wider than the sea,
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
You've got my nose opened wide.
So wide people see.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
Wherever I go...
I know that this shows.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I know it is exposed,
That you opened my nose!
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I walk on tip-toes,
With my eyes half closed.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I walk on tip-toes,
With an opened nose.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
And with my eyes closed too?
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe it that you did this to me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Life Is Difficult
Life is difficult-
Surprises are not always what we hoped they would be-
People misunderstand us-
We imagine we are kind
And they understand us differently-
Some problems never get solved
Some remain lingering for years-
There are cruel people in the world
Stupid ones also-
The fair do not always get the prize
The pushers push push push the good guys aside-
We see the Evil grinning and we cannot touch them-
All kinds of Hopes we have are disappointed-
Rejection is the Fate of everyone at one time or another
One has to try and try and try
And often that is not enough-
Life is difficult
And after a certain age is more difficult
And when young is also difficult-
Life is difficult in some time or some way for all of us
It just is-
Life is difficult
And even when it seems not to be
There is another time coming-
Life is difficult
And so long as we live
It will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Keep It Revealed
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Scented flowers do not stop their scents.
The Sun will always carry its brightness,
When our eyes are closed at night.
The Moon we share is not only there for us.
Nor is the air we breathe,
Awaiting for the trees,
To allow its leaves to feel the breeze.
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Let each touch be meant,
To send tenderness received.
Let our eyes openly communicate,
A connection understood we appreciate,
And in our hearts believe.
Let each kiss ignite that flame,
Never to leap to another's lips.
Let the love made that we make,
Never freeze from the heat we keep.
Don't be my love,
Only when you feel it.
Feel it wherever you are,
My love.
And wherever you are,
Don't conceal it.
Keep it revealed.
Keep it revealed.
Keep it...
Revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today... 'The Christ of God
Who do you say I am? , You enquired.
Then Peter replied with words so inspired
'The Christ of God and the Promised One
The Messiah and God's Only Son.'
These words not revealed by flesh and blood.
But by the Holy Spirit of God.
For there to Peter had been revealed
this great secrets from the world concealed.
For when in Christ we come to believe
then forgiveness for sin we receive
In Christ all the fullness of God dwells.
A secret that the Holy Spirit tells.
Jesus is the One the prophets foretold.
The Anointed One promised of old
Who came to fulfil all prophecy
and lay down His life for you and me.
I have come to know Him as my Lord.
This Jesus Who is the Christ of God
has become the Saviour of my soul
and by His death I have been made whole
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)