Pre-Conditioned
Most of us,
Have been pre-conditioned...
To find good jobs.
Odd or not...
But that job sought,
We eventually got!
Instead of creating them.
Most of us,
Had been in that position.
And pre-conditioned...
To look for something already there.
Without paving a path with motivation.
Hoping what we did...
Secured us for years,
And would last!
Passing along that abstraction,
To our 'kids'.
Most of us...
Seek approval from some.
To find out from them,
If they accept what we've done.
Most of us...
Live lives confused.
And sit to await...
For that sacrifice to be appreciated.
With a love developed to sing the blues...
Feeling distraught and sometimes used.
And others who seem to fulfill their dreams...
Are often the ones who come to stun,
Some,
Who complain nothing for them changes.
Becoming strangers...
Even to themselves.
While those of us stay pre-conditioned,
To superstitions and beliefs.
And tied religiously,
With pleas to relieve us from sorrow and grief.
Fixed in prayer,
And down on our knees.
Stuck without movement...
As if sealed,
In concrete!
Hoping God...
Will bestow upon us our desires!
With His understanding...
We are obedient as we sit.
To observe a miracle!
And demanding He delivers it.
Leaving God to wonder what it is,
We wish.
Since He has not seen,
Any evidence of those on their knees...
Applying any elbow grease,
And/or working towards it!
Whatever it is that is wished.
Knowing His creations are here to benefit.
With the aid of His assistance.
And He too waits...
To see who takes the initiative!
And most of us,
He knows.
Just don't get,
This process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
That Has Not Been Your Objective
I will not slip into wickedness,
Because that is what you wish.
Nor will I pray to be forgiven of sins.
Or temptations you have teased me with.
I am not the one,
To be conditioned how to live.
With your beliefs thrown upon me,
To keep me feeling of myself as negative.
This process you have chosen,
To diminish my identity.
Will never sit well...
With contradictions you uphold.
And do not dispel.
But choose to dangle in front of me,
As a process of an equality.
And to find within restrictions,
A limitation to place my need to be me...
Will never satisfy an acceptance of a life,
That is mine!
With a pride and dignity I carry inside.
With a presence I do not seek for you to define.
To you I do not owe an existence,
By which I will sit in a wickedness...
Inflicted by your wishes,
To teach as lessons preached.
In sermons from pulpits to have me reach...
For wings in the beyond.
While you use my ignorance,
To leech from me my freedom?
In a continued display that maintains disrespect.
And you want me to believe,
This is all I can expect?
If ever you see me on my knees...
Not a vision of you do I have,
Coming to my aid with aims to please.
And blessings I have received from God,
Has taught me the clarity of that!
You are not the creator of my breath.
Or separate dreams kept,
To fulfill you can meet to satisfy or have met.
And I have known that has not been your objective!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brainwashed
You look like a real human being
But you dont have a mind of your own
Yeah, you can talk, you can breathe
You can work, you can stitch, you can sew
But youre brainwashed
Yes you are, yes you are
Get down on your knees
Youve got a job and a house
And a wife, and your kids and a car
Yeah, youre conditioned to be
What they want you to be
And be happy to be where you are
Yes you are
Get down on your knees
Get down on your knees
The aristocrats and bureaucrats
Are dirty rats
For making you what you are
Theyre up there and you re down here
Youre on the ground and theyre up with the stars
All your life theyve kicked you around and pushed you around
Till you cant take any more
To them youre just a speck of dirt
But you dont want to get up off the floor
Mister youre just brainwashed
They give you social security
Tax saving benefits that grow at maturity
Yeah, youre conditioned to be
What they want you to be
And to do what they want you to
Yes you are, yes you are
Get down on your knees
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Demanding Your Love In Return
Comforted by Your comfort.
And a faith that keeps 'Us' connected.
I know my relationship with You is unique.
When I speak to You,
I demand Your attention.
To leave others alone with their beliefs!
Some say they pray for things to get.
Like ornaments to bring them happiness.
While others are taught to plead to You,
On their knees.
But Father You know,
I don't have to do that with You to please.
And I'm certainly not going to pretend,
I do not have a taste to indulge in temptation!
I'm curious about all of Your Creation.
And those who expose their evilness...
Hiding behind pretensions,
With claims they know what You want best.
Are clearly the ones confused!
If they were as righteous as they profess...
Why are so many religiously stressed?
Comforted by Your comfort.
And a faith that keeps 'Us' connected.
I know my relationship with You is unique.
When I speak to You,
I demand Your attention.
To leave others alone with their beliefs!
Hoping one day...
The truth about You,
Will open their eyes and amaze!
To find that You...
Are waiting for them to love You too!
Like I do.
Demanding Your love in return!
But then again...
I am aware of You always there.
And I can do that.
Knowing Your eyes...
Are always on me!
Whether or not I am on my knees,
To impress in pray.
You are with me everywhere!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
You Have No Idea What You Are Up Against
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
It hears and listens to all of the nonsense.
With those professions of devotion...
From an emptiness,
Faithfully dismissed.
As soon as the ritual...
Has satisfied a mind,
Limited in consciousness.
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
In a belief whatever 'It' is...
Can be overwhelmed by flattery.
With wishes the 'act' delivers,
Something that can be 'shown'
How much you known 'It'!
And 'It' has chosen you...
To make 'Its' presence known!
Whether you 'own' or lease,
Your chariot from your sheltered crevice.
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
And this 'It' sees.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
State of Repressive Remission
Values and times change for us all.
Reluctantly.
And perceptions also,
From initial impressions.
Some of our sentiments visited emotionally,
Take on new meaning...
When scenes romanced and remembered,
Have been conditioned to a complete renovation.
Reluctantly.
And our hearts with observation,
Are fixed with an unexpected rejection...
Of a nonacceptance we find difficult to respect.
Yet...
Eventually this is done,
Reluctantly.
And for many a reminiscing continues on.
When scenes romanced and remembered,
Have been conditioned to a complete renovation.
Reluctantly.
And our hearts with observation,
Are fixed with an unexpected rejection...
Of a nonacceptance we find difficult to respect.
Yet...
Eventually this is done,
Reluctantly.
As some make attempts...
To keep the present,
In a state of repressive remission!
Unsuccessfully.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grim and Stuck On Their Knees
Grim and stuck on their knees.
Too many people with weak souls.
They are the ones claiming to know...
How others should go about their days,
And pray.
Grim...
And stuck on their knees.
Seekers wishing to be equal.
But complain about their troubles,
And evils they face all day.
Seen running to be hidden in shadows.
Running from realities they choose not to believe.
Desperate are the lives of these people.
Sharing as seen their half filled cups...
With others they seek,
Like them who have given up!
Grim...
And stuck on their knees.
They see themselves with bad luck.
Grim and stuck on their knees.
Afraid to get out of ruts.
They want their boats re-ruddered.
Grim and stuck on their knees.
They want them sugar buttered.
Grim and stuck on their knees...
They seek a life that's other than the one 'not' cookie cutter.
Grim...
And stuck on their knees.
They see themselves with bad luck.
Grim and stuck on their knees.
Afraid to get out of ruts.
They want their boats re-ruddered.
Grim and stuck on their knees.
They want them sugar buttered.
Grim and stuck on their knees...
They seek a life that's other than the one 'not' cookie cutter.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hanging-In-There!
From the gallows of mental death...
That is where they claim to hang!
People who speak,
Words of defeat.
To let it known...
Their lives are not their own!
Or dreams wished to fulfill,
They desire with motivation to keep.
Doing things just to get by...
Is a sad commentary,
For those 'trying' to survive.
Instead of finding a purpose for themselves...
They await in hesitation,
For an approval made to live their lives!
And doing nothing else but 'hanging-in-there'!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Conditioned To Request Permission
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
The pursuing of the blooming...
We expect and accept,
With any happiness we get.
Oh...
Oh oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
And whoa,
A oh oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me with suspicion,
And live with secret inhabitions.
Why should we accept conditions,
That might invite future division.
Whoa,
A oh oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
Oh...
Oh-oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
Oh...
Oh-oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Popularity
Popularity is great...
For those on missions to seek it.
For those conditioned to live to be liked,
Inspite of how one inside truthfully feels.
For those running for an office,
With blemishes and flaws...
They will not escape a scrutiny,
Until they are left wishing...
They did not do this!
There are those who use looks,
To flaunt about.
Hoping this attention...
Separates them and stands them out!
And then there are those,
Who do not seek popularity at all.
It is just something about what they do...
That make some folks believe,
They are seeking ahs and ooo's.
While the opposite of that,
Is where their minds are at.
And this is true.
If you asked those who are more popular,
Than me and you.
And I wish I had time to do that.
Signing autographs prevents that task.
And the paparazzi stays on my path.
And all I'm wishing for on days like this...
Is just some privacy,
While I eat my tuna sandwich!
Oooohhh...
The anguish one suffers,
When something done meets approval...
That separates them from so many others!
'hehe...'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lifted From Deep Sorrow
You came to leave.
Not stay.
You came to do as you pleased.
And then when you were done,
You were off to another one to 'do'.
You came to leave.
I was hoping you would stay.
I wanted to believe this was your wish.
But you just came to sniff and lick.
And I held onto foolish dreams...
You could not fulfill if I wished!
You came to leave.
Not stay.
You came to do as you pleased.
And then when you were done,
You were off to another one to 'do'.
I sat thinking of you,
When you were gone and through with me.
I wish I could not feel you grieving.
But I do!
I was just like you...
Before I cut my pain loose.
But your pain,
You desire to keep remaining in the gutter.
You came to leave.
I was hoping you would stay.
I was hoping...
Something you saw in my eyes,
You would recognize...
Had been lifted from deep sorrow.
But you never looked up...
To witness my approval of your 'business' visit.
I was satisfied...
Yes!
But never regard me,
As a client wishing for your return!
I am seeking someone to specialize my needs.
And although you are good...
I do not think of you as the one to qualify,
As a fireside companion!
When my embers burn...
They do so,
For the one who chooses to stay...
As we together ignite those sparks.
And you...
Are just a quick flicker.
To leave me ablaze,
Before you decide to go out!
And I am no longer about that.
I have a lifetime of logs left to simmer,
For the one who comes...
And enjoys what we can together sizzle!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Counting Dollars Clocked For My Efforts
I've heard it said,
But not as often these days.
How I had it made.
And others 'have' to work.
Although today,
There is an economic crisis.
And many passing their judgements,
Are not so free to critique.
With a shutting done of their lips.
And I use to let these comments upset.
But I stopped recently to think to myself...
They could not be referring to me.
Because I've been working all my life.
Doing things that I like.
And not having the benefit to call in sick.
None of which,
Affords me the time to sit doing nothing.
Or to complain to anyone,
About getting no pay!
As they...
Those in positions to complain AND get paid,
Take money and run on their pay day.
With the doing of one thing most of their lives.
And have the time to mind someone else's business!
Well...
With many today hoping those pink slips given,
From them look the other way!
And if I wished to have a position like that,
I wouldn't be spending sleepless nights...
Toiling as I do something I like.
I'd be spending time entertaining myself.
Or find the time to dine.
Ruining my diet with an unnecessary appetite.
Sitting to gossip about someone's life.
And here I am after many years...
Without the benefit,
Of lunch breaks and two weeks of paid vacations.
While doing fourty five minutes of daily labor!
To then say how easy someone else has it!
Don't we all make choices?
I can't be the only one who remembers this!
So fortunate I am to count my blessings.
Even though there has been times I wished,
I was counting dollars clocked for my efforts.
I'd have a condo on Jupiter by now!
But...
God has my back.
And so grateful I am for that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Premeditative Thoughts Conditioned
Endorsing one's entrapment.
That I can not give.
Premeditative thoughts conditioned,
Is not a life to live.
To exist to be pigeonholed,
Are afflictions I do not embrace.
To stay fixed and unadventurous,
Has never been my place.
To explain what to do to another to get done,
For them may have purpose.
For me there is none.
Difficulties to overcome,
Are decisions alone one must make.
Some have never done this without an approval.
And seeking acceptance results in one's heartbreak.
Life is lived to experience it.
And many would rather not!
Since their fears they can not shake.
And how can that be explained to anyone?
When it is known by those who have done it...
That is what it takes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pre-conditioned By A Doping Done
Wider are those eyes closer to full open.
Those once hazed,
With a focus directed...
On amusement and candied fantasies.
Bittersweet on tongues are messages tasted.
Messages nibbled...
From those who delivered them,
Considered once to be traitors, mavericks...
And patriots,
Carrying thick chips on shoulders...
And indifferent to steadfast policies.
Are now regarded as heros...
Who sacrificed their own lives,
To get others to 'see'.
'Get up off your knees and pay attention! '
Voices exclaimed,
From positions ostracized.
'You have been pre-conditioned by a doping done.
And duped to sleep like sheep.
Not one, not some...
But 'everyone'.'
Wider are those eyes closer to full open.
Those once hazed,
With a focus directed...
On amusement and candied fantasies.
'Get up off your knees and pay attention!
You have been pre-conditioned by a doping done.
Not one, not some...
But 'everyone'.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Earth Births
I do my best,
Not to harbor disrespect.
For anything or anyone,
That the Earth births...
To nourish with an encouragement,
Flourishing as it is meant!
I wish to exist without regrets.
And I incorporate a discipline,
With prayer and forgiveness.
Done in quietness!
Preaching with an outreach...
May for some meet success.
But I try to inspire those,
With ears receptive and ready.
Those who are open without protest.
But so many are conditioned to believe,
They are physically disconnected.
And spiritually meant to be on knees grieving.
How distant can minds like this be?
When it 'should' be obvious...
No one here breathes,
Without the benefit of trees.
And 'what' and 'who' has the creative power to do that?
That's why no one 'should' accept,
Carrying the weight of burdens alone on their backs.
But...
Try to tell those detached that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Return
Pawns of a nonexistence.
Blissed by myths...
And habits of repetition.
Enslaved by fear.
Kept in position,
And conditioned superstitions.
Seeded on a planet to leech,
To leave.
As these inhabitants await the return.
Believed by those of wisdom and capabilities...
A mental advancement has been achieved.
And those who were left,
Are living up to their potential.
Expecting this they are,
Upon their arrival.
'What is so funny?
Your Majesty.'
~Oh,
Nothing.
Nothing to share.
Just humored by my own thoughts.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shallow Are My Nights
Shallow are my nights.
A smothering of wrongs...
Has come to contaminate,
My will to do things right!
And for what reasons,
Should I hold onto standards gone?
Where is my quality of life?
Dreams I treasured to fulfill,
Have made me feel...
I don't belong!
My strength to maintain them...
Seems like a song I've sung.
I no longer care to even hum!
Shallow are my nights.
A smothering of wrongs...
Has come to contaminate,
My will to do things right!
Trashed are my steps.
To place them at my best.
A process once I refused as disrespect.
Now I see,
Less than mediocrity.
Is more than enough...
Those conditioned with this mindset will accept.
Shallow are my nights.
And a Sun once bright I gazed with delight...
Leaves me with a warmth,
I have come to find irritating.
Shallow are my nights.
With a lust I seek from the gutters!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Keys To Locks
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Are those who will never be convinced,
An accustomed abundance...
Has exhausted what has always been believed,
Would be theirs.
A taking and not sharing had been a way of life.
A selfishness fed...
Comforted them in their beds at night.
And disregarding warnings,
Times come that will not be as bright...
For them is not accepted.
Preparing for these days,
They prefer to reject!
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Are those who will never be convinced,
An accustomed abundance...
Has exhausted what has always been believed,
Would be theirs.
Even indebted to others they owe...
Can not be digested,
In minds isolated with only a selfishness known.
Even those with traditions fixed upon a worship of greed...
Refuse to accept,
Their wishes, wants, desires and needs...
Must be removed from their customes.
Since no longer there...
Are the tricks and treats that once easily pleased.
Even indebted to others they owe...
Can not be digested,
In minds isolated with only a selfishness known.
And...
Those conditioned to perceive themselves,
With undeniable rights...
To receive even when cupboards are bare.
Demand them to be restocked...
From those they owe who have keys to locks.
Those who now...
Command the blocking that stops!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Keeping Faith In Hollow Concepts
Intelligence can not be enforced,
Upon those restricted and conditioned...
To accept the limitating affects,
Of their teachings.
If people are lead to believe...
An aspect of life that does not exist,
But for them they can achieve...
Then of course,
Their efforts are going to be frustrating.
It is like keeping faith in concepts,
That are not real!
But to the death they are embraced and held.
When I realized Santa Claus did not exist...
I went ballistic!
The Easter Bunny, Minnie and Mickey Mouse
And a host of my childhood allies...
Were erased from me,
When I began to age with understanding I then refused!
Sometimes I wake up in cold sweats,
Thinking of the death of them.
And how I was challenged to move on with my life!
Intelligence can not be enforced,
Upon those restricted and conditioned...
To accept the limitating affects,
Of their teachings.
Religions, deities and their myths?
I am not going to touch that with a ten foot pole!
I'll just say the marketing has left tremendous debts,
Of mental casualties!
Wherever these beliefs are currently at war!
One has only to connect the dots to observe the damage!
If people are lead to believe...
An aspect of life that does not exist,
But for them they can achieve...
Then of course,
Their efforts are going to be frustrating.
It is like keeping faith in hollow concepts,
That are not real!
But to the death they are embraced and held.
And those who know these things...
Are freer to live their lives,
With a broader sense of self.
Without fears to manifest and share.
Once an awareness stretches to introduce,
A higher consciousness induced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gods and Husbands
Men are conditioned to cleave to the gods.
Women are conditioned to cleave to husbands.
No rationales can uproot their tendencies.
These are in the genes, planted long ago..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!